He's Gone Away
by MzMalfoy
Summary: It's a year after the war and everyone is struggling to recover, no one more than Hermione and George. This is a story of how two friends help each other find their way out to the other side of grief, and perhaps find more than they expected. Canon through Deathly Hallows, but is EWE.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! Here's a story that came into my head and wouldn't leave so I had to write it down. I hope you enjoy it. It's just a one-shot for now, but I'm open to continuing it if I get a good response from it. Y'all let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

* * *

_He's gone away, for to stay a little while.  
But he's comin' back if he goes ten thousand miles.  
Oh, who will tie my shoes?  
And who will glove my hand?  
And who will kiss my ruby lips when he is gone?  
Oh, he's gone. Look away, over yandro._

Hermione Granger lay quietly in the four poster bed in her room in Grimmauld Place. She was staring, unfocused, at the patterns in the plaster on the ceiling and had been since she woke up some time before… she didn't know how long it had been. She should really get up. She had to use the loo…. and brush her teeth. She'd just lay here for a little while longer. She had a little more time before she had to get dressed. She sighed dejectedly, maybe she just wouldn't go…. Ugh, but she had to. Harry and the Weasleys wouldn't forgive her if she didn't. Still she didn't make any move to get up. She closed her eyes and it was as if that was a curtain call for the film to begin again in her mind's eye. She felt herself falling into the memory of endless hours spent in the dreary tent with Harry… the unceasing stomach ache caused by hunger and then the rejection of food on the rare occasion they could find any. The body and mind-numbing cold. Sometimes she still felt that way. Numb. If she were completely honest with herself she felt that way more often than not. She did right now, but it was easier that way. She almost liked it.

A sharp knock at the door had her reaching for her wand before she realized it was just someone at the door. For a moment she'd been back in the tent.

"Hermione? We've got to go in a half hour…" Harry called through the door. She felt a little shame creep under the numbness; she knew he worried about her. As if he hadn't done enough for everyone now he wanted to fix her.

"Hermione?"

"I'm up." She called. "I'll be down in a few minutes." She waited a few moments until he finally walked away. She had to get her shit together so he'd stop worrying about her. She just wanted to be left alone…

After a few more minutes of nothing, she finally heaved herself into a sitting position. Dammit. She did not want to go. And now she had to rush to get ready when all she wanted to do was lie here and possibly go back to sleep.

She made it downstairs just inside her allotted half hour and saw Harry pacing in the kitchen. He didn't want to do this either, but Molly insisted. Hell, everyone insisted that Harry be there… their Savior couldn't be absent from the service recognizing the first anniversary of the fall of Tom Riddle.

She grudgingly shrugged into her 'being around people' façade and wrapped her arms around Harry. "You okay?" She asked him, her voice muffled by the fabric of his robes.

He hugged her back and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Are any of us?"

She gave a soft mirthless laugh, "I don't know."

"I guess it just takes time." He said bracingly and gave her a final squeeze before stepping away. "You look lovely, by the way."

She looked down at her plain black dress. "You're sweet." It was nice of him to say, but no one looked good in mourning attire.

They flooed to the Burrow and from there they traveled with the all the Weasleys, minus Fred of course, to Hogwarts for the service. She was thankful that she, Harry, and Ron weren't being recognized this time. This was more of a memorial. The celebratory activities for the anniversary would probably begin next year… this year it was still too fresh in everyone's minds. The wounds still too fresh. So they all sat through a service that no one wanted to attend but all felt as though they should. She knew all about survivor's guilt and post-traumatic stress disorder. She knew that they were all suffering from it to some degree, herself the worst of those in their group.

Arriving back at the Burrow for lunch she surveyed those in attendance. She saw the same dark circles on several faces that adorned her own. Yes, they were all suffering the aftereffects of fighting a war. Intermingled with the giddy relief of being free from Voldemort's hideous oppression and evil plans there were times of sorrow and despair. But she looked around at those gathered and watched them begin to shed the somber mood of the morning and restore the Burrow to its usual cheerful atmosphere. She worked up a smile as Bill handed her a glass of the wine that she favored, but it fell immediately as he turned away. She snuck out the backdoor, unable to handle the crowd and the noise and any shred of happiness. She just couldn't deal with it right now… or any time in the foreseeable future really.

She hurried to the tree line, hoping to get out of the garden before she was spotted abandoning the house. Breathing a sigh of relief she made it to the woods without anyone calling her back and let the shade and silence wash over her. This was much better. She meandered slowly with no real destination in mind, feeling both guilty and ashamed of herself. She had lost no more than the people inside, why couldn't she climb out of this?

The guilt increased even more when she came to a small pond and saw someone who had every right to feel this way where she did not. George sat on a large boulder, his legs drawn up nearly to his chin and his arms resting across them. He appeared to be engaged in her favorite activity of late: staring blankly. Her feet carried her towards him at the same time that her mind told her to find somewhere else to sit and stare. He obviously wanted to be alone. She quietly climbed up beside him and mimicked his posture without a word. Hopefully he wouldn't mind her presence… he gave no acknowledgement either way.

Her eyes found a lily pad and her gaze stopped there… not really seeing it. It was strange doing the sitting and staring thing with someone else. Not that they were really interacting, but still. It was different. Sometimes, at home, she'd sit and stare in the bottom of the tub while the shower ran, part of her drawing it out, hoping that Harry would check on her. To come in and ask why she was sitting in the bathroom in the dark… for him to scoop her up and rescue her from her own mind. She wanted to be noticed yet at the same time undisturbed, left to wallow in her own numbness. She didn't know what to do with herself anymore.

Her thoughts turned to George sitting beside her. Now, here was someone who was allowed to wallow in despair. He had lost his twin, part of himself, when Fred had been killed in the final battle. She didn't know how he functioned without him; they had been like two sides of the same coin. She felt sorrow and pity creeping up again wondering about how George must be coping. She might be edging toward apathy lately, but the loss of Fred broke through it for now. Without really thinking about it, she leaned towards George and closed the few inches between them, laying her head on his shoulder. They sat that way for some time and she hoped he took the contact as silent support. She didn't have anything else to offer. He'd heard all the trite, and frankly insulting, condolences of 'he didn't feel any pain', and 'he died a hero' and 'time heals all wounds', and she'd be damned before she started spouting that tripe to him. Some wounds never healed. They stayed scabbed up and angry… you could forget about them for a time but then life would poke you right in the tender spot and start the bleeding all over again. Sometimes they split open of their own accord and left you bloodied and broken without warning.

George melted slightly and let his head rest on top of hers and she was relieved. She had been thinking about getting up and leaving him to his thoughts. Encouraged by his simple movement she pushed away her numbness and reached for her empathy again; could she offer any comfort that he would actually want to receive? She unwound her arms from around her knees and wrapped both hands around his bicep, linking her fingers together on top of his arm and leaned her knees against his leg. They sat this way for several quiet minutes before he responded to her touch by resting one of his hands on top of hers and giving her a small squeeze. She was grateful when he left it there. She'd started out trying to give comfort, but the feel of his cheek resting on her hair and his hand on hers was actually giving her some. She wasn't alone in this scary place where all she wanted to do was sit and stare. She had a sit and stare friend. A partner in commiseration. A voice in the back of her head pointed out that they both probably should seek some professional help. Yeah, that was true.

After a few more quiet minutes George broke the silence. "I'm thinking about closing the shop."

She tried to make no reaction, wondering what he needed from her that he made this confession. The rest of the family would try to talk him out of it… maybe he just needed a neutral sounding board right now. "Why?" She asked simply.

His sigh fluttered her fringe and she squeezed his arm gently. "Fred handled the paperwork side of everything… I haven't been keeping up. I'm going to go under at this rate."

"Have you thought of hiring anyone?" She'd hate to see him lose the shop for something like that… she'd thought he didn't want to do with without Fred, not that he was having trouble keeping it running.

"It's got to the point that I can't afford to… and honestly, I don't want some stranger there… sitting at his desk."

She didn't know what to say to that and so silence descended on them again. But his confession had kicked her analytical side into gear. She made a quick pros vs. cons list in her head before she spoke, it seemed a good idea at first glance.

"Can I make a proposition?" She asked a little timidly.

"G'head." He replied and her heart broke a little more that he didn't come back with a remark about her propositioning him. She hoped he'd heal enough to find humor in things again someday.

"I could come do your books for you. I don't have to use his desk either, I get that." She said quietly, wondering if she were overstepping. He didn't immediately reply, which she took as a good sign.

"I wouldn't be able to pay you. For several months probably… but I know if there was anyone who could get me organized, it'd be you." She was pleased by his complement.

"Well, what if you compensate me with free room and board instead? Isn't there a third bedroom in your loft?" She'd never suggest moving into Fred's room; George would probably never be able to box up his brother's things and it would be like sacrilege to live in Fred's space.

"I didn't know you wanted to move," he sounded surprised.

"Well, Harry and Ginny deserve their own space. Not that they'd ever ask me to leave but I'm pretty sure I bring down the vibe in the lovebirds' nest." She'd been feeling awkward about it for a while now; she just hadn't had the energy to look for a new place.

"What about your job? It'd be full time keeping me in check." He said with the slightest trace of humor.

"I wouldn't miss that job at all. Every morning I work with an eye on the clock, counting down til lunch. Every afternoon I work with my eye on the clock, counting down to five."

"Huh." He acknowledged that she spoke and appeared to be thinking it over. She let him contemplate in silence while she also examined it a bit more closely.

As the silence expanded she felt a little awkward for being so forward, he might not want to open his home to her. They were friends and all, but she totally understood not wanting people in your space.

"I just thought it might be mutually beneficial and I'd hate to see you close the shop for something like that but it won't hurt my feelings if you'd rather not."

"No, I'm not opposed to it. Let me think about it for a bit, yeah?" He asked and lifted his head off of hers.

She straightened to look up at him, "'Course. I'll leave you be then. Thanks for sharing your rock with me." She gave him a small smile.

"Anytime, sweets." He squeezed her hands as she slid them off of his arm and watched her stand.

She stood and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. She looked down at him and this time empathy came unlooked for: his eyes were nearly empty and yet slightly lost. Poor George. He glanced up at her when she made no move to leave and they studied each other. She leaned down, gently grasped his face between her hands, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He blinked up at her and she smiled sadly, turned, and walked quietly away. If he had been Harry she'd have added "love you" before she left but as much as she cared about him, she and George had never had any heart to hearts before and that would've just made it awkward.

She meandered her way slowly back to the house in no hurry to join the throng. Hopefully she could just make her excuses and leave. They were all sort of used to her flaking out by now. In the aftermath of the war she'd thrown herself into the rebuilding efforts but after the immediate needs had been met and skilled labor was required for the remainder, she had just run out of steam. She moved into Grimmauld place with Harry, followed quickly by Ginny, and taken the first job she'd been offered which was in the department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She didn't like it, but didn't really have a justifiable reason for her dislike. The work wasn't very challenging but it was something different every week which should have captured her interest. But it seemed nothing captured her interest lately. She should probably go see someone… there were potions that could help her cope with the PTSD and depression that she suffered from. But she just didn't feel like it. That was the summary of her life at the moment, for the last eight months really- "I just don't feel like it."

She met Harry and Ron and a couple others in the back garden, the party apparently having spilled out of the house.

Harry handed her the glass of wine she'd abandoned earlier. "Is George alright?" He asked quietly. She blinked at him, surprised that he'd followed her into the woods. "Molly asked me to see where the two of you went… you know how much she worries about him. I saw you two by the pond; it seemed like he let you closer than he's let anyone for a while so I thought it best to leave you to it."

"He's as well as he could be I suppose. We didn't really talk about anything. We just sat there and stared at the water." Ron grimaced; apparently he'd been hopeful that George had finally opened up to someone. He had a bit with the news about the shop, but she'd keep that to herself.

Harry nodded, "Still, he didn't run you off."

"That's an improvement." Ron confirmed.

She made some non-committal sound and sipped her wine. She had a feeling that George would appreciate it if people would stop asking after him every time they saw him and just let him heal in his own time.

She bided her time and made small talk with the Weasleys that came her way and kept one eye on the clock. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy their company… she didn't have the energy to participate in things like this. She just wanted to go home. Just as she was about to make good her escape she saw George emerge from the woods and quickly scan the people milling about until his eyes stopped on her. He made his way over to her and she wondered if he could've made a decision about her working at the shop already. Perhaps he just wanted to talk over the finer points first…

"Sure you want to do this?" He asked with no preamble.

"Yeah, 'course." She responded without hesitation. Maybe a change of scenery was what she needed. Maybe George needed to not go home to an empty apartment every night either.

He studied her hard for a moment, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Alright then. When do you start?"

She blinked in surprise, taken aback but pleased by his quick acceptance of her suggestion. "Erm, well I do have to give some notice… we don't have anything important at the moment so I can probably do just one week's notice. So Monday after next? But I can come by and work some this weekend and try and get you caught up on paying what bills you can and whatnot"

"Well, I'm closed Sunday and Monday. That's my weekend."

"Oh that's right. Well, the ministry is closed today and tomorrow for the anniversary and then it's the weekend. Why don't I come by tomorrow and sort of assess what you've got going on and then we'll go from there?" He nodded. "And what about me moving in?"

"I'm alright with it. There's plenty of space and…" he paused as if unsure if he wanted to continue. "Being alone there… the silence…" He cleared his throat and looked away.

"Okay." She stepped in, not wanting to watch him struggle for words; she got it. "When do you want me to move in then?"

He shrugged and cleared his throat. "Whenever you want to, just let me know. There's a bed and everything already in there by the way."

"Oh. Well I don't have much to move then. We'll talk about it tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure." He started to turn away, but hesitated. "Listen… no one knows that I'm in trouble, much less how close I am to losing the shop. So can we just tell people you need a change of pace or something and not that you're saving my arse?" He rolled his eyes, "You know how mum worries already…"

"That's fine." She smiled and then looked quickly around. "I'm leaving… tell everyone I said goodnight?"

"Not bloody likely, if you're leaving so am I. If you're going now I won't look so bad if I go, too."

"Fine. Let's just tell Harry and Ron then, they'll cover for us."

It took them only a few minutes to say goodbye to Harry and Ron and convince them to tell Mrs. Weasley that George had work at the shop to do tonight to cover his early departure. They walked to the Apparition point together and stood a little awkwardly for a moment.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow…" Hermione offered.

"Yeah. I'll have a key made for you in the morning."

"You'd better tell your mum that you'll be living with a woman." She said with a hint of a smile, wondering what Mrs. Weasley would think about that… Hermione imagined that at the end of the day she'd be relieved that George wouldn't be by himself now.

"Ha, yeah. You tell Harry and I'll tell Mum. She'll be fine with it… if not… I'm twenty-two, what's she going to do?"

They Disapparated to their respective residences and Hermione surveyed what she needed to pack. She actually felt a twinge of excitement that had been absent for many months. The prospect of doing something meaningful for a friend made her feel a bit less inclined to sit and stare at things this evening. Instead she surveyed her room and conjured a few boxes. She opened her wardrobe and sent some of her clothes into the nearest boxes. She spent about half an hour packing before she realized that that was pretty much everything. That was sad. She could pack up her entire life to move in half an hour? Ugh. She was going to bed.

. . . . . . . . .

Friday morning she only stared at the ceiling for about an hour before she talked herself into getting out of bed. George needed her help and time was of the essence. She got ready, shrank her boxes into her beaded bag, and headed down stairs, surprising Harry and Ginny at the table in the kitchen.

"You're up before noon!" Harry said quickly. "Are you doing something today?"

"Erm, yeah actually… I'm helping George at the joke shop." Her announcement was met with complete and utter silence. She worked up a laugh at their dumbfounded expressions. "He mentioned to me yesterday that he's looking for someone to help him with the bookkeeping and I told him I'd do it."

"Oh, okay. Just this once? I mean, doesn't he need someone more permanent?" Ginny asked, sipping her tea.

"Well, you know how I don't really like my job?" She asked and Harry nodded slowly, looking as though he didn't believe the conclusion he'd come to. "I'm going to quit and go to work for George."

"Wait, wait, wait." Ginny held up a hand as Harry stared wide-eyed. "You mean to tell me that you, Hermione Granger, are quitting your job at the Ministry of Magic to work in a joke shop?"

"Well it sounds a bit barmy when you put it that way, but essentially, yes."

"I see." Ginny said quietly.

"Oh, and I'm moving in with him so you two can have the house to yourselves." They both stared at her in shock at this. Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Look, I think we can all agree that a change of pace would probably be good for me, yeah?" They both gave her pitying glances and nodded; her descent into apathy had not gone unnoticed. "And that it would probably be good for George to not live there all by himself anymore, yeah?" They nodded again, making sounds of agreement. "So it's really not as mad as you think it is at first."

. . . . . . . . .

Hermione walked into WWW just before eleven and surveyed the shop. It was satisfactorily busy for a weekday morning during the school year. She headed to the back of the store and found George stocking shelves.

"Alright, George?" She asked, walking up.

"Oh brilliant, I can make someone else do this later then." He said, abandoning his work. "Come on up and I'll show you how much trouble you're in… remind me to buy you lunch today, you're going to hate me when you see everything."

"Oh dear…" They headed up the steps to the second floor which was an open space with several desks. He gestured her to one of them that was absolutely overrun with unopened post. "Oh… George…"

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "I… I just got overwhelmed. I got overwhelmed and I didn't know where to start so I just… didn't."

"You are indeed buying me lunch. And dinner." She asserted, eyeing the mountain of paper before her. "I guess I'll get started… come check on me every now and then and make sure I haven't been crushed in an avalanche of paper."

He wished her "good luck!" and scurried away before she could change her mind- or beat him for his sins.

She stared at it for a moment, also overwhelmed and not knowing where to start. She ended up just picking an envelope at random and opening it. It was an overdue notice for the water bill, threatening to turn the water off, she checked the calendar, Tuesday. Brilliant. She started a stack for urgent bills. She steadily worked her way through it, starting stacks of bills by vendor, a stack for orders and so on.

She was nearly through opening all the post when George came up the steps bearing boxes which she hoped contained lunch.

"If you don't have food you'd better go right back downstairs George Weasley." She said with a hand on her hip.

"No it's lunch. Wow, you've made a lot of progress for only two hours!" He said quickly, clearly hoping that food and flattery would keep him out of trouble.

"Do you have time to sit and eat with me so we can talk about some of this?" She asked as she accepted a proffered box.

"Indeed I do." He grabbed his desk chair and rolled it over to where she sat in the floor surrounded by stacks of paper.

"Alright. How much money do you have available right now?" She asked, picking up her sandwich.

"Well, I have some deposits I need to make…"

"George."

He huffed out a breath. "I don't know."

"You don't know." She repeated incredulously. He shook his head and had the good grace to look ashamed.

"Wow. Well… how do you feel about putting me on the account so that I can do the banking for you then?"

"Would you do that? Seriously?" He asked, pausing with his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

"I would. Let's go to Gringotts after we eat." She took a bite and chewed as she rethought her game plan. "How much do you have to deposit?" He hesitated in answering. "Just be honest, George. This will get done much faster and less painfully the more information you give me."

"I haven't made a deposit in at least three weeks." He confessed, setting his sandwich aside and propping his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"Okay. That'll be the first order of business. Are the deposits ready to go to the bank or do they need balanced or whatever?" She tried not to feel overwhelmed, reminding herself that it would take a couple of months to get WWW back on track.

"No, they're good to go. Verity closes everything out at the end of the day and records all the transactions and everything. I just haven't taken them." He looked relieved that he finally had a positive answer to give her. She was certainly relieved about it.

"Well good, we need to get some money in the bank because they're shutting the water of Tuesday and you're three months behind with your rent. We need to get those paid today."

They finished their lunch as they discussed deciding how much to pay, to whom, and when. And she hadn't even finished going through everything yet. When they finished eating they walked down the street to Gringott's and added her to the company's accounts. She tried to ignore the glares of the goblins but it was difficult. They would never forget that she had successfully broken in, stolen something out of a high-security vault, released their dragon, and destroyed the lobby.

"Well, that was only the most awkward experience of my life." George said jokingly as they walked back out.

"Merlin, I think I'm sweating!" she said, fanning herself dramatically with her copy of the paperwork. "Honestly though… that was really bad." She giggled as they headed back to the shop. "So, I really don't think you're in as bad of shape as you thought, George." She remarked.

"Really?" He said, sounding shocked.

"Well, the store has kept doing really good business, and according to the balance sheet we got just now, you've got enough money to get caught back up on the urgent notices that I've found so far. I've also been finding owl-order forms in there so there's more than just bills in all that mess."

"I think I love you." He said earnestly as he opened the door for her.

"That's what they all say." She said lightly as she preceded him in the shop. "Come show me where the checkbook is so I can get you out of immediate trouble."

She sent payments to the landlord and the water department, took the order forms that she'd found downstairs so the employees could get started filling those to get some more money in the door, and set to work on sorting the rest of the post. Several hours later she was ready to sing the Hallelujah Chorus as she finally started seeing the wooden surface of the desk through the envelopes. She looked at her watch as she placed the last missive on its correct pile. Good lord, it was nearly seven. The store would be closing any minute. So much for only working a couple of hours. She straightened up and stretched, her muscles sore from hunching over all afternoon, and surveyed the organized chaos that was her immediate area. She heard George coming up the stairs and turned to see his reaction to seeing the desk clear of papers. He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks, his eyes taking in the multitude of stacks spread on the floor and the paper-free desk.

"Hermione, you are my hero."

"Heroine."

"Yeah, that. Whatever." He stepped closer and scratched his head in a nervous gesture. "Well, what's the damage?"

"I don't really know yet. I've sorted it but only had time to look at a few. I'll work on that tomorrow." He nodded. "You don't have a computer do you?"

"A what?" He asked, still looking overwhelmed.

"That's a no then. The muggles have a brilliant way of organizing information like this. It'll help me stay organized. I'm going to go buy one tomorrow and you can pay me back once we get you caught up."

"Brilliant." He absently held out his closed fist and dropped a key into her open palm. "Here's your key, Roomie." He sent her a small smile. "Shall I show you your room?" She nodded and followed him to another set of stairs the led up to the third floor loft. She'd only been up there once or twice, but remembered that she was surprised at how nice it was. Unlocking the door he held it open for her. She could get used to the chivalry, that was like the fourth door he'd held open just today. She entered the spacious living area… the whole building had been some sort of warehouse so the walls were brick, the ceilings had high exposed beams and the floors were old, weathered wood. She loved it.

"Your room's to the left there," he pointed, "and mine's across to the right. We've both got our own loo, so there's a good bit of privacy." He gestured to her to go look at the room and she opened the door to see a spacious bedroom lovely queen sized bed.

"Oh, this is lovely." She said, somewhat surprised by how much she liked it.

"I can't take credit; Angelina did the whole place for us…" He trailed off and she knew he was remembering Fred. He cleared his throat. "Anyways, it's yours whenever you're ready."

"Well, I've actually got my things with me… there wasn't much." She raised her beaded bag as evidence. "Is that too quick?"

He looked surprised but shook his head. "Not at all. Well… you work on getting settled then and I'll go get us some takeaway. Any requests?"

"No, whatever you like is fine."

With the amazing tool that was magic, she was nearly finished when he returned with the food. They ate quietly together at the obviously rarely used kitchen table before parting for the night. She lay in the comfortable bed staring at a new ceiling for an hour or so before she fell asleep, this time idly tracing patterns in wood grain instead of plaster.

She awoke the next morning to the sounds of George moving about the loft, the soft noises echoing off the wooden floors and brick walls. She rolled onto her back and stared out of the window this time, as she watched the sun climb over the roof of the building next door. She let him leave before she could talk herself into getting out of bed. It wasn't the struggle it was to get up for her normal job so that was nice. She was honestly really looking forward to turning in her notice on Monday. She imagined that George would let her work whatever hours she'd like as long as she kept up with everything. Thoughts on helping George, she got herself up for another day of sorting.

The first order of business was a computer. She spent the better part of the morning traveling to Muggle London and back to make the acquisition. Once she was back she settled in at the desk and got to work on entering all the bills into the program and filing away the paper copies. George dropped her off some lunch but as it was Saturday the store was much busier and he went back downstairs to eat his own while he worked. The hours passed mostly unnoticed as she ploughed through the stacks. She was truly in her element now: organizing. Making structure out of chaos. By close that evening she'd found several more bills that needed paying immediately and sent payments with the shop's owl, Parsnip. She reached down for the next stack and realized that she'd gotten through them all. Every single bill had been entered into the computer and filed away in the filing cabinet. Brilliant.

As she and George ascended the steps to their apartment she was giving him a rundown of her accomplishments. "….so now I need you to prioritize your vendors say, the top five in order of most important. I haven't looked at the numbers yet, but I doubt we have enough money to catch up on all the debt right away so we need to get your accounts settled with the important ones first so you can keep supplies coming in, yeah?"

George seemed a little dazed by the amount of information she'd just thrown at him and nodded. "Brilliant… are you working tomorrow?"

"No, I don't think so. I think I've got you caught up enough to wait the week until I can start full time." She toed off her shoes and left them near the door.

"I'm absolutely amazed at how quickly you got through all of that." He commented, also ditching his shoes and hanging his jacket on the peg on the wall. She smiled in thanks and they went on their way.

The last week of work at the Ministry crawled by with numerous comments of shock and dismay at her departure. Living with George was surprisingly easy. They both kept to themselves for the most part. With his permission she'd brought Crookshanks over after a visit with Harry with Ginny and he enjoyed exploring the new space. They took turns fixing dinner, George had apparently benefitted from helping his mother in the kitchen because he turned out to be a better cook than Hermione. Her first week at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was busy, to say the least. She had finally determined a bottom line and it was not pretty. George had gotten significantly in debt. With late fees and interest charges, it would be at least three months before WWW was operating at a profit again. With his help they prioritized the payments and by Wednesday had sent the most important ones, Thursday she sent letters with partial payments to some and Friday sent letters with only promises to still others. Saturday she spent in accounts receivable sending bills to people who owed them money. That was much more encouraging as it seemed George had also gotten behind there and had quite a bit that should be coming in soon. She was surprised and pleased to learn that shops as far away as America and New Zealand were carrying some of WWW's products.

Sunday her lethargy caught up with her and she spent the majority of the day in her room. She felt extremely pleased with the work she'd put in during the week, but now the numbing apathy was creeping up on her once more. She spent hours in bed, idly petting Crookshanks and watching the shadows of the beams migrate across the ceiling with the sun. She didn't hear much of anything from George's room. She wondered if he wasn't doing the same thing she was. Eventually she could no longer ignore the hunger pains and got up to shuffle into the kitchen. George's door was open and she could see that he was lying face down on his bed, she paused near the door. Her eyes focused on his back… he was breathing. She left him there and poured herself a bowl of cereal before returning to her bed.

The next week passed quickly as well. She spent each morning at her desk going through the post which contained many replies from those she'd written to the week before. It seemed many of them were very glad to see that George was making an effort to get back on top of things. She knew that nearly everyone loved George and they had all been sorry to watch him struggle with the loss of his brother. In the afternoons, if she was caught up, she would spend time in shipping and receiving packing up owl-orders. Once they were out of the red she might to suggest that he hire someone to work back there full time instead of trying to find the time to do them himself. The faster they went out, the faster the money came in. They settled into the new routine very smoothly, George was more than ready to hand over the administrative side of things to her and return his focus to the store itself. She wondered if he'd be ready to start inventing new products again soon. That would be a relief to all of them, but she knew it was so hard for him to do by himself.

Upstairs in the loft their routine continued much as the first weekend had done. Most nights they would eat a quiet meal together before going to their respective rooms, the weekends were also quiet and both of them kept to their rooms for nearly the whole time. The nights were so quiet, she wondered if they didn't both Silence their rooms so that neither heard the other's nightmares. Sometimes Crookshanks would leave her room and go paw at George's closed door, perhaps he could hear or sense something that she couldn't. She began to wonder if their living together wasn't a bad idea… here there was no one to pull them out of their rooms and make them shower and go outside.

More time passed, each day another bill was paid in full and George seemed to be just a bit lighter, apparently reveling in the release of guilt about his debts. Well, at work he was lighter. Once they were back upstairs he returned to his sullen sit and stare self.

She was having a particularly bad day one Sunday about a month after she moved in, the apathy was in full swing and she had no desire to do anything at all. She hadn't even eaten. She just lay curled around a pillow, staring at the wall. At some point George stuck his head in and she looked at him without speaking. He looked a bit ragged, wearing an old Quidditch jersey and sweatpants, obviously un-showered and unshaven. He stood in the doorway for a moment looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. After a moment of silent staring at each other, he moved into the room and crossed to stand next to the bed. She shifted to look up at him, but still neither spoke. For some reason the afternoon they spent by the pond at the Burrow crossed her mind and she scooted to the far side of the bed in the only invitation he was going to get. Maybe he needed to sit and stare with a partner today. She wouldn't mind. He stared for another moment and then climbed in, settling himself on his back; his hands clasped over his stomach and stared at the ceiling. Her view of the spot she'd been studying on the wall was now obstructed so she too rolled onto her back. They lay in silence for so long that she started to doze when he spoke up.

"How many nails in the ceiling?"

"Two hundred seventy four." She answered automatically.

"Knots in the wood?"

"Eighty six."

The silence resumed and eventually he turned onto his stomach and fell asleep. She decided to stare at him, since he was a new addition to her room. Why had he come in here? She wasn't good company. It was sort of pleasant though, almost a relief to let someone in on what happened on the bad days, to let someone actually see the nothingness that she felt. A relief to know that someone else felt it too, something similar anyways. Eventually, it got uncomfortable staring at him so she turned to face the wall as he slumbered on. She wondered if his depression was caused by solely by missing Fred or if he had a touch of the PTSD that plagued her? She could diagnose herself pretty easily, but couldn't fix it. She couldn't bring herself to seek help either. She just didn't want to. A tear leaked unnoticed out of her eye and was absorbed by the pillow. Maybe she just wasn't ready. Maybe she just wanted to be sad for a little while longer… sometimes the wallowing was nice. Despite the emptiness, it meant she didn't have to put effort into anything.

. . . . . . . .

_Lights flashed and stone trembled as she sprinted through the corridors. Harry, Ron, Percy, and the twins running with her. She felt hexes fly past her and heard feet thundering in pursuit. Harry stopped and turned to fight, despite her screams to keep running; they were outnumbered! Damn his inability to run from a fight._

_Cursing Harry and the situation she spun around and crouched low behind an empty plinth to fire back at their pursuers as the Weasley men also took any cover they could find and went on the offensive. Her stomach filled with dread as curses of all different colors rained down on them from the unseen Death Eaters. Suddenly there was a huge explosion and the entire castle trembled, she shrieked and covered her head with her arms as debris rained down on them. When the rumbling stopped she looked up into the dust-filled air. The Death Eaters were cut off from them now by they tumbled stone of what used to be the ceiling and the exterior wall. She stood shakily looking for her friends. She saw Harry scrambling out of an alcove and turned to look for the others. Her heart stopped as she caught a glimpse of dusty red hair amid the rubble. Racing to the fallen Weasley she quickly and carefully moved chunks of stone. She saw it was one of the twins… who was missing his right ear. _

_"George!" She shouted, tapping his face as Harry joined in the frantic effort to free him. No response. "No! George!" She felt along his throat for a pulse but there was nothing but her own frantic heartbeat echoing in her ear._

She sat bolt upright with a dramatic gasp, tears already in her eyes. George! Oh, god that had been horrible. Just a dream, she reminded herself, thank Merlin just a dream. They hadn't lost anyone else. He was fine. Just a dream. She lay back down and took a deep breath. Just a dream. Nothing happened… it wasn't working. Tears were now sliding gently down her face despite her attempts to calm down. She spent three more minutes trying to calm herself before she gave up. She got quietly out of bed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. It did nothing to slow the tears. Crookshanks followed her silent walk across the living room to George's door. She opened it as quietly as she could and peeked inside. She could make out his dark form, but that was it. She crept closer and tried to see his face in the dark… looked for the telltale movements of steady breathing but there wasn't enough light. She took the final steps to the edge of the bed but before she could do anything else she was shocked into stillness by the sharp press of wood into her throat.

"George…" she whispered, surprised by how suddenly he moved but instantly chagrined that she'd tried to sneak up on a sleeping war veteran. It was impossible.

"Fuck, Hermione, you scared the hell outta me." He lowered his wand and relaxed into a sitting position. "What are you doing?" He asked, raking a hand through his hair.

"I…" Her voice trembled, "I had a bad dream." Ugh, she sounded like a child.

He didn't appear to judge her and she knew it was because he had undoubtedly had his own share of nightmares in the last year. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with understanding.

"No… you…" she hiccupped, she just wanted a hug. "You died." She said quietly.

"Oh love, come here. I'm fine." He made room for her and opened his arms and she all but dove into them. "I'm alright, it was just a dream." She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head against his chest. He arranged them comfortably and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. She was overcome with tears for a moment and was so thankful that he hadn't sent her away. Instead he was holding her while she cried, his large hand rubbing soothingly up and down her back. After a few minutes she calmed down and began to be embarrassed at her actions, embarrassed that she'd just jumped into bed with him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his skin, not wanting to leave the comfort.

"S'ok. He said quietly against her hair. "Nobody's free of them these days." She relaxed against him and enjoyed the comforting feeling of a warm body next to her. She'd never really lain in bed like this with a man before. There were a couple of nights where she and Harry had ended up sharing a bunk, but it was purely to survive a brutally cold night. They had worn every bit of clothing they owned, had tucked her sleeping bag inside his and clung to each other for warmth, unable to tolerate the cold to keep a watch. It had not been a pleasant experience. This, on the other hand, was very pleasant now that she was done crying. Pleasant and interesting. His scant chest hair tickled her nose, she could feel the coarseness of his leg hair against her own bare legs and he was just so… large. His chin was on top of her head and her toes didn't reach past mid-shin. It was remarkably nice though… cocooned in his warm bed, wrapped in strong arms. After a few minutes she could feel his arms beginning to slacken around her and his breathing slow. She was sorry to go back to her room but knew she's overstayed her welcome. She slowly attempted to extricate herself from his embrace but didn't make it very far. Like her, he was a light sleeper.

He woke up with a slight start and rubbed his hand down her back again. "Don't have to go if you don't want to." He murmured sleepily into his pillow. She stilled and pondered him for a moment.

"Do you want me to stay?" She asked quietly, unsure of what she should do. This was awkward.

He seemed to wake up a little more at her question and he shifted to study her face in the dim light coming in the window off the street below. "If you like. It's nice to not be alone…"

He was certainly right about that. She knew if she went back to her room she'd lie there and see his pale, bloodied face from her dream. "Alright." She answered quietly, deciding to stay as much for him as for her. He wouldn't have offered if he didn't want her to. Even if she didn't care much for her own recovery at the moment, she would do anything she could for George.

"Kay. Turn over." He instructed and released her to turn to face away from him. Once she'd rolled over his arm wound back around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. After smoothing her hair down out of his face he settled in behind her and spoke no more. She should've known he'd be a cuddler. He was such a flirt and was rarely seen with a woman when he hadn't offered his arm or guided her through a door with his hand on her back. Some people just craved contact. She was that way sometimes, but had never had the chance to enjoy it at night. She settled in against him and he pulled her in a bit tighter like she was his teddy bear tonight.

Crookshanks hopped up onto the bed and explored, looking for the most comfortable spot. He walked up her leg and settled himself into the valley between her back and George's stomach and began purring loudly. Between the secure feeling of having George at her back and the relaxing sound of Crookshank's purrs, she drifted off to sleep quickly.

She awoke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window in much the same position as when she fell asleep. She groaned at the offensive light and reached under the pillow for her wand. Instead of her vinewood wand, she encountered George's. It occurred to her that this was the first night she'd spent without her wand under her pillow in nearly a decade. She waved his wand at the windows and they were obscured by a dark gray film that plunged the room into a twilight like darkness that was much more conducive to sleeping.

"Good job," He mumbled sleepily and rolled over, groaning slightly. She sleepily decided to follow him, feeling a little stiff from sleeping so long in one position. Only after she found herself nestled against his back, with her arm wrapped around him did she realize the ease with which they had this intimate… whatever this was. She smiled when he grasped her hand and pulled it up to his chest, keeping a gentle grip on her fingers. He was right last night: it was nice to not be alone.


	2. Chapter 2

She and George slept until after lunch that day and neither commented on their spending the night together. There had been no sexual overtones or awkwardness, thank goodness, and Hermione had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last time they sought comfort in the other during the night. She'd thought a little guiltily about Ron that afternoon… after spending the night in his brother's bed, even as innocent as it had been. She'd owed Ron better than what she had been able to give. They'd had that one dramatic movie-scene kiss during the battle, but then she just hadn't been able to handle it. She had put him off, telling him that when the funerals were all over they'd talk about it. Then it was when the castle was rebuilt, then when the children displaced by the war had homes… excuse after excuse and it had never happened. When she had finally run out of energy to help with the rebuilding she had just shut down. She had shut down and shut everyone out, including Ron. Harry only stayed because he was too bloody stubborn to allow her to pull away. She'd attended all the Weasley Sunday dinners and birthday dinners… but she really just took up space. It had felt like she lived in a different world than they did. There was more than one event where she had looked up only to realize that everyone was outside playing Quidditch or something and she was left inside by herself. The worst part was that it didn't really bother her. They should go have their fun. She was fine sitting here all alone. Alright, perhaps it had bothered her some. But eventually Ron had given up trying to make her talk about them. He stopped asking her to dinner and stopped turning down invitations from other witches. She didn't blame him. Who'd want to be with her, as big a mess as she was? She was glad he was happily seeing a witch he'd met at the Ministry.

They went back to work on Tuesday and Hermione was happy to see that a payment from a huge order had come in. That would put them a week ahead on her payoff schedule. During the last month they had come far enough that they were no longer getting rude letters with red ink as she had managed to pay the angriest suppliers and smooth the ruffled feathers of the ones they weren't able to yet. If business continued this way, they'd be out of debt by the first of July. She spent about an hour on some paperwork then dropped off last night's deposit along with the payment for the owl-order. She trudged slowly back to the shop; she was tired today. She was tired every day. Maybe someday she'd have some energy again. She went in through the backdoor, not wanting to deal with any customers and went to the stock room to check on the inventory. She grabbed up her clipboard and began a casual inventory of the most popular items. Skiving Snackboxes were huge sellers, but the school year was done so they had plenty. Extendable Ears were also a big seller… she'd need to place another order for the special rubber that George made them out of; they only had about two weeks' worth in stock. As she made a note she watched in her mind's eye of all the times they'd used those to listen in on Order meetings and other people during the war. Time got away from her and she started as George tapped her on the shoulder.

"Alright, Hermione?" He asked, looming over her.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Zoned out for a moment there.

"Love you were standing there ten minutes." He corrected her and she blinked in surprise. "Are you alright?" He fiddled with the end of her ponytail as he looked at her with a little worry creasing his brow.

"I'm fine… just tired." She asserted and focused again on her clipboard.

"Well why don't you go and lie down for an hour or two?" He offered, taking the clipboard out of her hands.

"No, that's not necessary; it's the middle of the day! I can't just stop working and take a nap." She wanted to sound scandalized, but she really did want to go lie down.

"Hermione… you're working for free. Go take a bloody nap, woman." He ushered her towards the stairs and she offered little resistance. "Go in my room, sun's not so bright in there this time of day."

"Are you sure?" She asked, both about taking a couple hours off and sleeping in his room.

"Yes. I don't want to see you til I come up after close tonight. You've certainly earned an afternoon off."

So twenty minutes later she found herself wrapped up in George's bed, in one of his shirts even, surrounded by his comforting scent. Why she felt so comfortable with him she didn't really know, but she didn't like to question it. She didn't want to find any answers that she wasn't comfortable with. She wrapped her arms around a pillow and stared out the window, seeing nothing, and eventually dropped off to sleep. She woke later when she felt the mattress dip she jerked awake to see George settling back against the pillows. She was surprised that he'd made it all the way to the bed before he woke her up, but she supposed that he was pretty sneaky when he wanted to be.

"Hey," she greeted, rolling over to face him. When he didn't answer she sat up to study him; he looked pale and his lips were pressed tightly together. "Hey, what's wrong?" She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. He said nothing so she waited patiently, rubbing small circles with her thumb. He'd get it out eventually, if he hadn't wanted to talk to her about it he wouldn't have come in and woken her up. She watched as his blue eyes began to water and he slammed them shut before the fluid could escape. She stifled a gasp and shifted to rest her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her arm tight around him. Merlin, what had happened after she left? She breathed a sigh of relief when he responded and wrapped an arm around her and turned his face into her hair. They held on to each other while he fought to keep from succumbing to his tears. Eventually he cleared his throat and said in a rough voice, "I,uh, I went into our workshop." He let go with one arm to swipe a hand down his face. "Not the main one… the lab in the back."

Realization dawned on her: he had gone into his and Fred's lab space for the first time since Fred's death. She'd seen the sign on the door that forbade anyone entry and examined the wards designed to keep everyone but George out. Her throat began to ache as tears built in her own eyes at the thought, it must've been a knife in his heart to go into that space and know that he'd never work or plot or joke with Fred again.

She sat up as he pulled away and muttered, "Fuck, I can't do this." He lunged to his feet and stormed out of the room. She got up and slowly followed him. She found him in the kitchen with a bottle of Firewhiskey and a short glass. He downed one glass immediately and filled it right back up. Instead of drinking it he leaned over with his hands braced on the counter and let his head hang, defeated. She walked quietly into the kitchen behind him, knowing that if he wanted to be alone he'd have said so already. Over the last year she'd observed how everyone tried to coax George out of his grief. Molly coddled him and treated him as if he were recovering from a deadly illness, Arthur completely ignored the elephant in the room and was annoyingly cheerful. Ron just tried awkwardly to talk about Quidditch while Percy and Ginny tried to get him to talk about his feelings. He was incredibly resistant to all of these approaches and she didn't know why they didn't see that. He seemed to respond the best to her and Harry, who just quietly kept him company… although Harry didn't lean his head on George's shoulder like she tended to do. Maybe it was because she and Harry were a little bit removed from the family that he was more comfortable with them. She understood that he had opened up to her more than anyone else; as far as she knew no one had seen him cry since the funeral… and no one knew how much he'd struggled with the shop. She didn't know why he'd decided it would be her, but she'd do everything in her power to be there for him when he needed it. She reached around him and picked up the whiskey and set it on the table. She went to the cupboard and pulled down a glass for herself. Snagging his glass from in front of him she carried both to the table and sat down to wait patiently for him to join her. Or take the bottle and disappear into his room… whatever he chose to do. After a few minutes he straightened up and came to sit down next to her. His eyes were red-rimmed, but she made no comment. Instead she poured herself a shot of Firewhiskey and, turning to look at him, she raised her glass. He studied her a moment before copying her movement.

"To Fred." She said quietly and downed the contents of the glass.

"Fred." He said almost inaudibly and drank. He set his glass down with a soft clink, his eyes far away. She watched his face from the corner of her eye as he swallowed convulsively and she felt the tightness in her own throat of tears threatening. What was it about seeing a grown man cry that just broke your heart? He tipped his head back and closed his eyes; fighting desperately to keep them at bay… if he'd just give into them he'd feel better…

As if he heard her thoughts he shuddered and tears flooded out from under his lashes and she couldn't stand it anymore. She stood quickly and turned to sit sideways across his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he returned the embrace immediately, tucking his head under her chin and giving himself fully over to his grief. He held onto her with all his strength and she tightened her grip on his shoulders and rested her head on his as they both cried for Fred.

They sat holding on to each other, crying for ten full minutes. Even when the tears had slowed to a steady trickle instead of a deluge, they still sat that way. She'd taken to essentially petting him, running her hand slowly down the back of his head and neck. She wondered if it would help him to talk about Fred… she'd risk it.

"Which one of you was it that hexed my quill so that it spelled every fifth word backwards that time?" She asked, knowing full well that it had been Fred. He messed with her more than George had.

Her risk was rewarded by a surprised laugh from him. "That was Fred." He loosened his hold around her waist and leaned back to look up at her. "I nearly forgot about that." He reached up and dried a tear track from her face. She repaid the favor and swiped her thumbs across both of his cheeks. That was the only acknowledgement either made to the cry-fest they just had.

"I didn't forget. I got the only A of my whole educational career because of that prank. From Snape, no less." She said quickly, pretending to be affronted.

"Yeah well, you needed brought down a peg." He made an effort to tease her and reached around to refill their glasses.

"That might possibly be true." She conceded with a smirk. She clinked her glass to his and sipped this time. They sat in silence for a few minutes, she still on his lap leaning against his chest with one arm across his shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, he with one hand resting on her hip. "Who charmed all my underpants red?" She asked, giving him the stink eye.

This time he grinned. "That was both of us. We decided you should probably spice it up a bit."

She tsked at him. "I never told anyone about that you know."

"We didn't think you would." He chuckled at her and sniffled a little. "It was my idea though." She playfully smacked him, the prank long-since forgiven. It had absolutely floored her then that one or both of them had gotten a hold of her knickers though.

"Whose idea was it for that swamp?" She couldn't believe that she'd never actually sat down and talked with either of them about their intricate pranks… a lot of them were really very complicated magic and she'd never given them credit for it.

"Ah, it was my idea, but Fred that found the right spell and wand movement." He stared into space for a moment with a sad smile. "I think that was my favorite prank that we ever played."

"No, the fireworks display after your grand exit was by far the best. I wish you could've seen Umbridge and Filch running around the castle without a clue of what to do. If we ever get a Penseive I'll give you my memories of it so you can truly appreciate it."

"What's this? He asked, looking delighted despite the red eyes, "Hermione Granger approved of a prank against a teacher?"

"Whole heartedly." She confirmed, refilling their empty glasses.

They sat for several hours getting steadily pissed and talking about the shenanigans that he and Fred had gotten up to. At times the tears were an even mix of laughter and sorrow but she was so glad that he was talking about Fred again.

When he finished telling her about the how they found and subsequently nicked the Marauder's Map she stood up, woozily.

"George… I think I have to go to sleep now." She looked down at him, having difficulty focusing.

"Why, Miss Granger, I do believe you're good and pissed."

"Indeed Mr. Weasley I am!" She giggled. She hadn't had so much fun in… she couldn't even remember. Hell, she couldn't remember the last time she had any fun. Even though it was half crying, she still loved hearing the stories and seeing him laugh for the first time in a long time.

"Sit back down; I'm not done with you yet." He gave her a tiny nudge back into her chair as he stood and to a swervy path to the sink.

"You're not the boss of me, Weasley." She grinned. "Hey, I think you're listing a little to the left."

He shot her a glare over his shoulder as he poured them each a large glass of water. "Here, drink this first." He set it down on the table in front of her, slopping a bit over the rim. He shared another story about how he and Fred had dyed Malfoy's socks Gryffindor red and yellow every day for a month while they both drank their water.

"Alright, go to bed. I'm not carrying you if you sit here til you pass out." He said with a wink, standing and holding out a hand.

"Yes you would, too." She retorted, but took his offered hand and let him lead her to her bedroom. She headed straight for the loo and shut the door behind her. She took care of her business and brushed her teeth, chugging a bit more water from the tap. She hoped she wouldn't regret the drinking in the morning. But, if it helped George cope with everything, it was worth a hangover. She stumbled back into the bedroom and was a bit disappointed to find it empty. She told herself that was fine. That even though they'd had a bit of an emotional evening, she would be just fine sleeping by herself. She tugged down her sweatpants and climbed onto the mattress.

Just as she was sliding under the covers she felt a nudge to her backside. "Budge over." She scooted to the far side to allow him room.

"So pushy." She muttered and tried to stifle a smile. "Get the lamp, will you?" She yawned into her hand as the room went dark. He grabbed her around the middle and pulled her in close like he had over the weekend and she wriggled closer. He'd better not make a habit of this, because she could get used to it quickly.

When she woke up the next morning George was already up and getting dressed. Her head didn't hurt, but she wished for about a litre of mouthwash. She used the loo and then met him in the living room as he was pulling on his boots. His eyes were slightly puffy, but other than that he looked well.

He stood and came over to kiss her on the forehead. "Thank you."

"For what?" She asked, happy to see that he wasn't upset about spilling his guts to her last night.

"For whatever last night was." He didn't smile, but tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"No need for thanks." She said quietly.

He gave her an awkward nod, but didn't look upset, just unsure of himself. "Okay then. I'll see you later?" She nodded and he headed downstairs to open the store.

She took her time getting ready since she didn't have anything pressing on her schedule that morning and the drinking had made her a little sluggish. She was a bit worried about George this morning; yesterday had been nothing short of traumatic for him. She thought it was probably a needed stop on his way to accepting Fred's death but that didn't mean it was easy. They had dinner tonight at the Burrow, too. She would cover for him if he didn't want to deal with it. She'd try to find a way to bring it up at lunch.

She spent the morning looking over the numbers and was satisfied to see they were plugging along right on schedule. The day passed quickly as she went about placing a few orders and even helping out at the checkout. Come seven o'clock George flipped the lights out and they met by the door.

"Ready?" He asked, looking far from excited. He'd not had a good day, but wouldn't admit it. She'd seen him standing in the doorway to the lab… he didn't go in; he just stood in the open door and stared for a few minutes. But it seemed like it had been easier than it had been yesterday, so she supposed it was progress.

"As I'll ever be." She answered wryly. She just didn't like to go to big family dinners at the Burrow anymore. The noise and the crowded rooms made her twitchy.

They stepped out the back door, she tucked herself into George's embrace and he Disapparated them. They were greeted immediately with hugs and pats on the back. She quickly sought out Harry, who always had a bit of a calming effect on her and gave him a tight hug.

"I've missed you." She said quietly in his ear before she pulled away.

"Really? You don't call, you don't write…" He teased and she knew he was teasing but it was still true. She just forgot. Most nights she got done working and went to the bedroom or the sofa to sit and stare at the ceiling until bedtime and it never occurred to her to drop in on Harry and Ginny.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll get my act together someday…" She said quietly.

"I was only joking…" he said quickly, but she gave him a small smile and escaped the crowded kitchen. She thought she'd escape to the steps… she liked to sit on the stairs because it was out of the way, but still between two rooms so people couldn't yell at her for hiding. And because it was between two rooms, no one tended to congregate around her. She turned the corner and saw that George had already claimed them.

"Tosser." She gave him a half-hearted glare. "That's my spot."

"Not today, sweets." He replied, taking a drink of his butterbeer.

"Well budge over and let me sit by you then." He obliged and offered her a sip of his drink, which she accepted before passing it back. They sat quietly without speaking for quite a while until Ginny needed to pass to get something from an upper floor. Hermione and George scooted to one side and when Ginny came back down, they didn't bother to move back. She was too tired. They hadn't even started dinner yet; it would be two more hours before she could go home and go to bed. She let her head tip onto George's shoulder and he patted her knee in solidarity.

Finally Mrs. Weasley called them all out into the garden to eat. Ron had brought his new girlfriend Jenny, and it was just a little bit crowded for everyone in the house. It was _much_ too crowded for Hermione in the house. She went unerringly to the very end of the table so hopefully she wouldn't have to engage in as much conversation or be surrounded by people and was glad when George took the seat across from her. The Weasleys were pretty much used to the fact that she didn't make chit chat anymore, but she did manage to do alright with Ginny who was seated next to her. Ginny carried the conversation for the most part with only a smile and a nod required from Hermione every now and then. She really hated being such a bad friend she just… couldn't do it right now. She was getting itchy and ready to go when she felt George's foot seeking hers out underneath the table. She felt a little bit of relief as she immediately reached out. He captured both of her feet between his crossed ankles and carried on his conversation with Ron who was next to him. He made no reaction for a moment until there was a pause in the conversation. He made eye contact with her for a short second and sent her a subtle wink. She took a deep breath and strove to pay better attention to Ginny for the rest of the meal. Why George's feet were so distracting she wasn't sure… why she felt nervous about anyone else seeing she wasn't sure. Why the simple touch had made her feel calmer she wasn't sure. Why had he winked? She felt a blush creep up her cheeks and she didn't even know why. She was contemplating this so hard, she missed Ginny's careful appraisal of her friend.

Dinner wound to a close and she nudged George with one of her feet that he still held between his ankles and when he looked at her she tilted her head ever so slightly towards the Apparition point in the yard and raised one eyebrow. She was done with all the noise. He nodded subtly. He wrapped up his conversation with Harry and Ron, stood and walked over to kiss his mother.

"Thanks for dinner, mum. It was delicious as always." He kissed her cheek.

"Well you aren't leaving already are you, dear?" She asked quickly.

"Fraid so." He answered nonchalantly. They'd also gotten used to George either not showing or flaking out early so really it worked out just fine. She joined him and Mrs. Weasley and thanked her for dinner before they bid a general farewell to their friends and family and headed toward the Apparition point. Hermione felt all their eyes on them and wondered what they thought when George offered her his arm well before they got to where they could Disapparate. Somehow, Mrs. Weasley hadn't said anything to say about her moving in with George… no one had really. Not even Ron. Perhaps her initial thought had been correct, that they were all just relieved that George wouldn't be by himself all the time anymore.

. . . . . . . .

The rest of the week passed uneventfully until Friday night when she suffered through another nightmare… or flashback. Whichever it might be. She woke in a cold sweat with the image of Harry's lifeless body on the ground at Voldemort's feet still visible with her waking eyes. She got up immediately, thoroughly freaked out by the dream, changed her sweat-soaked shirt for a clean one, and padded across the loft to George's room. She got to his door and realized he'd left it open… did he do that for her? She tiptoed across the floor thinking that perhaps she could get in there without disturbing him though it was unlikely. Sure enough, two steps into the room she heard "Mione?" and some rustling of the blankets.

"Yeah, it's me." She hurried the rest of the way and slid under the covers that he held up.

"Nother dream?" He asked with a sleep roughened voice and rolled to his back and held his arms open in clear invitation. She went thankfully into them and snuggled into his chest. She nodded, just now noticing that she was shivering. "Who was it this time?" He asked, rubbing his hand down her arm.

"Harry." She whispered quietly. It was a sad state of affairs that they knew when the other had a dream they didn't ask 'what happened' they asked 'who died'.

"He's alright, I promise. Ginny will protect him." He said quietly and she knew he was trying valiantly to stay awake to comfort her.

She patted his chest a couple times and slid her arm around to hug him. Within a few minutes he was snoring softly and she gradually relaxed and gave in to sleep, knowing that if she did fall into another nightmare, George would wake her before it got too bad.

. . . . . . .

School was out now so Saturdays were always slammed with kids already becoming bored at home. George had to come ask her to work the counter so Verity could take a lunch break, two hours past her usual time. With so much activity the day passed quickly and she gratefully collapsed into bed that evening after some takeaway from the Leaky Cauldron. She couldn't eat there anymore… too noisy and too crowded. She couldn't handle being surrounded by people anymore, much less strangers.

That night it was apparently George's turn to have a nightmare. In the middle of the night she heard her door creak as it opened the rest of the way and she recognized his silhouette in the moonlight.

"It's me," He whispered quickly.

"'s'wrong?" She asked, swiping her hair out of her face.

"Dream." He admitted quietly as he crossed to the bed.

She pulled the covers back for him. "Fred?" She asked quietly as he slipped in beside her.

"Always is." He replied softly. They lay facing each other with the light of a full moon beaming in on them. She could see that he'd been crying. She scooted closer so they were only a few inches apart.

She traced the tear tracks with the tips her fingers and wiped the wetness away. "I'm sorry, babe." She whispered, still mostly asleep, and continued caressing his face. He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. She smiled sleepily and wove her fingers between his. Her eye lids felt heavy, but she needed to stay awake and make sure that he was alright.

With some effort, she forced her eyes open again and saw him studying her. "Y'okay?" She released his hand and slid it around his back and pulled herself closer, he returned the embrace.

"I'm getting there." He whispered back. She tried to smile up at him, but she'd been so sound asleep when he came in that she didn't feel like she'd fully woken up.

"Kay." Then she pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss and dropped her head back to her pillow and mumbled something telling him to go back to sleep.

She woke up the following morning tangled with George's long legs. He had one of them thrown over both of hers and held her securely to his chest with a very muscular arm. How had she been living with him nearly two months, sharing a bed with him on occasion and not feel a twinge of attraction? Eh. She didn't feel like analyzing it. She wriggled her way out from under him, surprised when he stayed asleep, and got up to use the loo. She came back immediately and snuggled back into his warmth, this time facing away from him. She pulled his arm around her and held his hand in hers against her chest. It was more comfortable that way. After a few minutes it dawned on her that she was staring at nothing again. Looked like today was going to be one of those days. Eh. It didn't really bother her. Maybe George would want to be a sit and stare partner again. He'd been a bit more cheerful this week though, so maybe not. That was okay, she'd spent plenty of days sitting and staring by herself. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. She didn't feel like getting up and going all the way to the kitchen… wasn't worth it.

Sometime later George woke up; she wasn't sure how long she'd been awake. He moved into her line of sight and studied her for a moment.

"One of those days then?" He asked quietly. She just shrugged, not feeling like answering out loud. He left the room for a little while, but came back and got under the covers with her again. He pulled her back into his chest and sighed against her hair. Neither of them said anything for a while. Eventually he moved and she blinked out of her stupor. He released her and rolled onto his back.

"I've been thinking…" he began. She made some noise to show she was listening. "I think I'm going to go see a mind healer." That got her attention. She spent a moment pondering it before she rolled over to look at him. She waited for him to continue. "and I want you to come with me."

She frowned at that, but sat up to try and get her brain to engage. "Why?"

"Hermione…. I care about you. A lot. Plus I think I'll probably back out if you don't go with me." He reached for one of her hands. "We both need help. I know that you know that. We're barely functioning. " She wanted to argue, to be insulted, to tell him to mind his own damn business… but she couldn't. He was the first one who'd had the bollocks to say that to her, and she was pretty sure the only reason that he got away with it was because he was in the same boat… hers was sinking though. And she knew it. She dropped her head to rest her forehead on their hands. She still didn't answer him. "'Mione… come with me?" he asked gently.

She sighed. "Ugh! You're right. I just haven't cared enough to do it myself. We'll find one on Tuesday if you want. Ugh."

He breathed a sigh of relief that he'd met almost no resistance and gave her hand a squeeze. She grumbled at him and returned to her previous position to stare at the wall. He also resumed his spot. It was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "I want you to know… I'm better than I was before you got here." She didn't answer, but she felt a knot unravel in her chest. She reached back with her foot and hooked it around his leg. That was all the response she felt like giving, but apparently it was enough because he shifted to trace a finger up and down her spine. "Thank you." She gave in and rolled to face him. He was extremely close. "Maybe when you get out of stare-mode, we can get some lunch?" She nodded. "Want me to leave you alone now?" She shrugged; she didn't mind his company. He sent her a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. He ran a finger down her cheek and to her surprise he leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips instead of the forehead as was his usual habit. He pulled away and studied her another moment before he got up and left the room. She stared at the spot he'd just vacated for a long time. She couldn't believe he'd talked her into getting help so easily. She had a feeling that if anyone else had attempted it she'd have shut them down immediately. Maybe he had the ultimate card to play, by telling her that he wouldn't get the help he needed without her going with him. Tricky bastard. Really though… it was time. It had been almost a year. He was right. Her mental state hadn't improved and she wasn't coping, she was hiding. Well… she could hide until Tuesday. She resolutely closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I told y'all that this story got in my head and wouldn't leave, so here is the third chapter in three days of my "one shot". I like how that worked out. Anyways, I've only gotten a few reviews but they've been overwhelmingly positive and I am very grateful to all of you. I hope you enjoy this one as much as the last!

* * *

As is usually the case, time always rushes by when you're dreading something. Tuesday morning came and after she'd taken care of her initial tasks, she thumbed through the wizarding version of the Yellow Pages and found the address of a healer that specialized in mental health; he even had some training in the muggle world.

She left a note on the desk in case George came looking for her and slipped out the back door. The healer's office was only about halfway down the Alley on a sidestreet. She opened the door to a small welcome area with a middle-age witch at a counter. She smiled up at Hermione. "May I help you, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'd like to make an appointment to see Healer Jones, please."

"Alright, if you'll just fill out this form for me…" The woman handed her a clipboard with a couple pieces of parchment under the clip.

"Actually… a friend and I want to have sessions together, is that possible?"

"Oh, of course, couple's counseling is this form here." She smiled sweetly and tapped the parchment with her wand so that the requested information reflected a married couple.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry… he's really just a friend. It's more of an accountability thing really. He doubts we'll actually go through with it if left to our own devices." Hermione explained awkwardly.

"Well, that's very insightful of him." She replied, still smiling and Hermione relaxed marginally. "I'll just give you two copies of the singles forms then. Just fill out what you can of his information."

Hermione sat down and filled in her form completely and was pleasantly surprised that she actually knew all of George's information as well. She double checked everything and returned the parchment to the counter.

"Alright, dear, when would you like to come in?"

"As soon as possible I suppose. We close the shop at seven every evening and are off on Mondays." She answered.

The witch referenced a calendar in front of her. "Actually he's got a 7:15 this evening, would you like to take that one?"

_No_, Hermione answered in her head. "That'll be fine… may as well get started."

. . . . . . . . . .

Hermione glanced at George as they made their way down the Alley to their appointment. He looked every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. He caught her glance and sent her a crooked smile. He threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side. "Come on, love. Things are going to look up from here."

She blew out a breath. "I don't know... maybe I like staring at the walls…" He gave her a squeeze and he ushered her through the door.

The welcome witch or whatever she was had already left for the day and they were greeted by a tallish middle-aged man with round frame glasses, similar to Harry's. He wore a bowtie and was absolutely adorable.

"Miss Granger?" She nodded and took his offered hand. "And Mr. Weasley."

"Hello, sir." George greeted him.

"Very good. Come in, come in." He led them back to a small library looking office and gestured them to a small leather sofa. They sat awkwardly side by side.

"Ms. Ravenwood tells me that you two would like to have your sessions together for now?" He looked between the two with a pleasantly expecting expression.

"Erm, well, yes. We're flat mates you see… and neither of us has been doing well. I thought it we'd be more likely to follow through if we came together."

"I see. Well, where do you want to start?" He looked between them again.

This time Hermione spoke up. "If I could just get down to brass tacks here, Healer Jones… I assume you know who we are and have a general idea of what happened to us during the war?"

The man looked a bit startled by her straight-forward demeanor but he nodded, "Yes, I certainly do. What the _Prophet_ reported at any rate."

"Well that will save us a lot of time today. I'm not implying that it doesn't need to be discussed but let's not start from absolute scratch when we don't have to, is that alright?"

"Of course, Miss Granger." He was already scribbling on his little piece of parchment.

"Well here's the long and short of it: I'm trying and failing to deal with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder." The healer raised his eyebrows, but she continued. "I am confident in that assessment; I have textbook symptoms." She braced herself for the healer to inform her that it was his responsibility to diagnose her and blah blah blah, but her surprised her.

"I will trust your assessment then, Ms. Granger. If I have something to add as we progress I will be sure to explain to you exactly why I came to that conclusion. Does that suit you?"

"Erm… yes. Thank you." She shifted sheepishly on the sofa, feeling guilty that she'd been so confrontational when it turned out the man was completely reasonable.

"Alright, Mr. Weasley." He turned his attention to George. "Would you care to give me a brief overview of what brings you here?"

"George, please." The healer nodded. "Well, you may know, my twin brother Fred was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts." Hermione reached for the hand that was on the sofa between them and gave it a squeeze. He turned it over and threaded his fingers through hers. "I am… not coping well."

The man nodded and made a note. "Perfectly natural. Are you aware of any coping mechanisms you may be employing to come to terms with the loss of your brother?"

"Erm… avoidance mostly." He said uncomfortably. She wondered if he wasn't regretting the joint session thing now.

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"Well… I abandoned the job that he did at our shop until Hermione came in and saved my arse right before I was going to give up and close the doors. I avoid my family… leave functions early… skip them entirely. I hide out in my loft a lot. Don't really go anywhere."

He nodded and scribbled some more notes. "So no drinking or anything like that?"

"Not with any regularity, no sir."

"Well that's very good to hear. You're not doing as badly as you think, George." He looked up at Hermione again. "Back to you for a moment my dear: how are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling?" She repeated… she wasn't sure how to answer that.

"Let me rephrase: on your bad days, what is the primary emotion that you feel?"

"Apathy." She answered immediately. He nodded and made a note. "I just lie in the bed and stare into space for hours until I fall asleep."

"Is it affecting your day to day life?"

"Yes. I'm also ducking out of commitments with family and friends… oh, and I can't handle crowds. The literal crowding or the noise. Makes me twitchy. So I flake out a lot."

"And how often would you say that you are apathetic?"

"Erm… most of the time. I spend most of the time I'm not working in bed, sleeping or counting nails in the ceiling."

"Mhmm. I believe I can confirm your self-diagnosis, though I know you had no doubt. Do you have flashbacks?"

"I'm not sure… I have very vivid nightmares, but I haven't really had anything while awake… well, maybe zoning out while I'm doing my staring thing. Sometimes I end up thinking about the war then. I'm not sure what counts as a true flashback to be honest."

He made a few more notes, and she felt obligated to add, "I think George's got it also. He's got the dreams and neither of us sleep well… we wake up at the slightest noise. You can't take two steps into either of our rooms without waking us up."

"Well, you've certainly given us quite a bit to talk about next time. Would you like to continue the joint sessions?" She looked at George who raised an eyebrow. She looked down at their joined hands and back up to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I think we will." George answered.

"Hm. After the next one I may suggest we move into separate appointments if you're comfortable with that. I feel that it will be more productive when we can focus on one of you at a time. You would certainly be welcome to book them back to back that way the other is in the waiting room should you want some support."

Hermione nodded, honestly preferring it that way. She thought they would each open up better in a one on one situation rather than feeling self-conscious with the other person in the room. George saw her nod and answered for them. "We'll do it your way, you're the professional. Our way obviously hasn't worked for either of us. Would it be best to go ahead and do the next time that way?"

"Yes, I believe it would. We'll schedule them in just a moment." He reached for a small roll of parchment. "Now, I'm going to write you a prescription, Ms. Granger, you can take it to the Apothecary right across the Alley there. It will help alleviate your apathy and calm the nervous reactions to crowds and noise and those sorts of things. It will not take effect immediately I am afraid, but over the next several weeks you should be able to tell a difference." She nodded and accepted the parchment with instructions. "Now, George. You may also suffer from PTSD, but not to the same degree as Ms. Granger. I believe the type of depression plaguing you does not need to be treated with a potion. I think you just need some help getting through the stages of grief and I can help you do that. If after more discussion we decide that you do need assistance to overcome either, we'll reconsider the potions. Now, do either of you have any questions?"

They both shook their heads. "Lovely. Let's schedule the next appointments then shall we?"

He set their appointments for the same time the following week. George paid the man and they walked across the street to the Apothecary.

He turned to her while they waited. "What do you think?"

"Well… I like that he didn't just blow me off when I told him what was wrong with me." He nodded and gestured for her to continue. "I like that he didn't make me recite my entire life history – that he already knew- before he'd give me the prescription that I needed. I know I can't come out of this without some chemical help." She laughed humorlessly.

He tugged on her hair. "Thank you for coming with me, love. I've been worried about you."

"Well _I've_ been worried about _you_." She countered.

They called her name and she picked up the small box of phials and the instructions that told her to take one every morning and they headed home.

She fell asleep fairly quickly, a slight feeling of relief helping her on her way. Her sleep was not undisturbed however. She was jolted from a sound sleep by a loud, reverberating BOOM followed by a flash of red light. She shrieked and slid out of bed to take cover behind it, shielded from the vulnerable windows on the other side. She clenched her wand in her fist and wished she'd worn more clothing to bed. She just had on one of George's undershirts… she had no trousers on at all! How was she supposed to duel with no trousers on?! Another flash of red followed by a second boom. Then there was rapid-fire crackling sounds with multi-colored bursts of light. Oh dear god, was the Alley under attack? She shot a spell that told her only George was in the loft… was he alright? The hexes didn't appear to be aimed at their building, but she didn't want to take the chance of trying to look out the window. She was just about to head for the door to see find George when there were several giant booms in a row, large enough that she felt them reverberate in her chest. Suddenly she was back in Hogwarts castle, watching spells hit the protective wards outside the castle, sparks raining down. Dust filled the air… people were screaming… She shook her head, no, she was in their loft! She was not in the castle.

"George!" She screamed, the sound of the explosions nearly drowning her out. Oh, god she was afraid. She was torn between fleeing the room to find George or wedging herself between the bed and wardrobe and hoping to wait out the destruction unscathed. She ended up curled in a ball of indecision in the floor with her hands over her head. She didn't want to fight anymore! She was just gathering the courage to leave the room to find George when he burst into the room and turned the light on.

"Hermione!" He scooped her off the floor and settled her on his lap on the bed. "Hey, it's alright!" He pried her hands off of her hears, "It's only fireworks, I promise! Can you hear me?"

She shot her head up and looked out the window. "Fireworks?!" Sure enough, now that she wasn't cowering behind the bed she could see that they were indeed plain old muggle fireworks. She took a shaky breath. "Son of a bitch."

George let out a surprised laugh. "Are you alright?"

"I guess I am now! Bloody fireworks." She burrowed into his chest, trying to calm her racing heart. She swiped furiously at a couple traitorous tears with a shaking hand. "For a moment I was back in the castle…"

"Aw no, Love. It's the muggles in London, I don't know what they're celebrating..." She flinched as a particularly bright green one went off. "Come with me, you can't see them from my windows." She nodded and let him carry her to his bed. She lay on her back while he climbed in and lay on his side next to her, head propped up on his elbow. He brushed some hair off her face. "Sure you're alright?"

"Yeah…. I just panicked there for a moment. I thought the Alley was under attack." She shivered and wriggled closer to him.

"I can see why you did, especially from a sound sleep. I don't know why the hell they'd do them in the middle of the night like that."

"Thanks for coming to get me." She said quietly, looking up at him.

"Of course I came to get you." He pulled her in closer and held her quietly for a few minutes, until her adrenalin settled and her hands topped shaking. "Better now?"

"Much. Feel a bit stupid, really." She looked up to see if he was laughing at her, but her breath caught in her throat for a moment because the look in his eyes wasn't one she had seen before.

"You're a lot of things love, but stupid isn't one of them." He said quietly. "Except for the fact that I randomly climb into your bed at night and yet you went to sleep without trousers on. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're trying to drive me mad… especially since you're wearing nothing but my shirt and some very lovely pink knickers." She felt the blush rise on her cheeks and didn't really know what to say… that _was_ fairly stupid of her.

Suddenly the touch of his palm on her stomach wasn't just the usual offer of comfort… she couldn't even discern what made it different this time, but it was. He lowered his head slowly and paused, looking into her eyes. Her eyes widened, there was no mistaking that movement: George Weasley was about to kiss her. It was going to change their dynamic completely. Did she want this? Her eyes traveled to his lips and the tightening sensation in her abdomen told her that yes, she did. His hand traveled up her arm to her shoulder then the back of her neck. He caressed her face with his thumb once and then he closed the distance between them. Her eyes fluttered shut and she enjoyed the sensation of his soft lips in contrast to the stubble on his chin. He took his time, kissing her slowly and sweetly. She returned the kiss in kind and the tightness in her abdomen increased and she slid her hand into his hair. He took that as the encouragement that she meant and he deepened the kiss, slowly trailing his tongue across her bottom lip. She gasped against his mouth, shocked at the sensations that simply kissing was bringing her. This was the first time she'd experienced this level of attraction _ever_, much less in the past year of feeling almost nothing at all. Just as his hands began to wander, he pulled away and stared down at her. She listened in awe to her heart pounding.

"I want to try that again sometime…" He said, giving her one last kiss. She heard what he left unsaid… he wanted to try that again sometime when they weren't as broken. When she could actively participate in life again, when he was able to go into the lab behind the workshop without breaking down.

She pondered the possibility for a moment, still staring up at him. He was attractive, intelligent, kind, he had an unrivaled sense of humor… well, he would again someday. He knew everything about her, even all the bad parts, and was still here. He was all of those things and he had also managed to take care of her when her closest friends and family hadn't been able to. He managed to talk her into getting help for her issues without even making her angry. When she looked at him from that angle, it seemed it was only a matter of time before they headed down this path. She already slept in his bed at least once a week for crying out loud.

She leaned up and kissed him, simply because she wanted to. "I think I'd like that." She said when she settled back into the pillow. She saw the flash of a grin before he laid down and got comfortable.

"Alright then." They both adjusted to their usual sleeping position where she was snuggled back into his chest with his arm curved around her waist. She couldn't get her mind off of that kiss… except when it wandered to the memory of him carrying her across the living room like she weight nothing... She squirmed a little at the thought. These were new and interesting feelings. She thought she'd been attracted to Ron and Viktor, but never to the point of actually feeling aroused by them.

Even as she thought this she felt his hand skim up the outside of her thigh and grip her hip tightly. He groaned quietly in her ear. "Hermione. You have three options. Option A: Stop squirming and go to sleep. Option B: Go sleep in your own bed and squirm as much as you like, or option C and my personal favorite: Stay _here_, squirm as much as you like and I'll make love to you until the sun comes up or you can no longer remember your own name, whichever comes last.

She stopped squirming. She was pretty sure she stopped breathing as well. _Until she couldn't remember her own name? _Was he serious? She didn't really think he was _that_ interested in her. Until she couldn't remember her own name… a world of previously un-thought-of situations opened up before her eyes and before she realized it, she had squirmed against him again. His fingers dug into her hip and… was that..? Oh dear. He obviously was _that interested_ in her. She froze again.

"As much as I would love for you to pick the last option, I know you aren't going to. So for the love of Merlin, woman. _Lie still_." He spoke roughly and she let out a nervous giggle. She had no idea how to handle this situation, but she followed his instructions and lay completely still. He shifted away and she could no longer feel him against her bum and that decreased the tension slightly. After a few minutes his hand left her hip and assumed a more comfortable position on her stomach. They both lay there in the silence but it was obvious neither were very close to sleep.

Suddenly he got up and rifled through a drawer before tossing her a pair of pajamas. "All I can think about are those hot pink knickers."


	4. Chapter 4

They woke up the next morning, wrapped around each other as usual. Other than a wink on his part and a blush on her part, no acknowledgement of their middle-of-the-night encounter was made as they got up and ready for work. The day passed as any other unremarkable Wednesday until closing. George came up after he locked the front door and waited for her to finish what she was working on. She looked up to find him watching her and felt her cheeks heat again.

"Care to go get some ice cream with me?" He asked as she shut down her computer.

"Ice cream?" She asked, "Before dinner?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, if mummy allows it."

She pretended to glare at him and stuck her nose in the air. "Very well."

They strolled down the street arm in arm towards Fortescue's. Once there she ordered a chocolate cone and he got something that was loaded down with sweets. She shook her head at him as they sat at a table off by themselves. It was a pleasant evening. Hermione shifted so that the wall was at her back-an old habit- and engaged in some quality people watching as she licked her ice cream cone.

"So… I have to ask you something." George began, making an expression that spoke of discomfort.

"Yeah?" She asked warily, she didn't think there was anything in existence that could make George Weasley uncomfortable.

"Did... this is awkward. Did anything happen between you and my brother?" Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she attempted to swallow a bite of ice cream without choking. "I know it's not my business… but if he's still carrying a torch for you or something then obviously… I can't…. I mean, I don't want…" He raked his hands over his face. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get it. But no, nothing ever really happened." She wiped idly at the tabletop with her napkin. "We sort of danced around each other for a couple years at Hogwarts. We almost got there right after the battle; he wanted a relationship… but I couldn't do it." She looked up at him and saw a bit of relief in his expression. "As for still having feelings for me… as far as I know he's perfectly happy with Jenny." She hoped that Ron would be accepting if she did start seeing George in the future…

. . . . . . . . . .

Tuesday came around quickly and she found herself seated on the leather couch, baring her soul to Healer Jones. He confirmed that she'd started taking her potion immediately and then they spent the hour talking about her youth, starting with how she spent her childhood and finding out she was a witch. She'd had a happy childhood and both parents were alive and well so there wasn't much to discuss there… they made it all the way through fourth year at Hogwarts before her hour was up. He'd had very little to say during the session, asking her to elaborate on her need to achieve the highest scores, how she felt about running herd on Harry and Ron, and a couple other details.

She gave George's hand a squeezed on her way out when they traded places. She ended up sitting in the waiting room and then pacing during the hour he was inside. She knew that he needed to talk about Fred, but also knew that it would be a painful process for him. When his hour was up he came out with swollen eyes and a stuffy nose. He confirmed their standing Tuesday evening appointments and opened the door for her. She reached for his hand as soon as they left and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. He reached back and pulled the hood of his jumper up, shading his face from the street lights. She knew he didn't want anyone to see the condition he was in. They walked the couple of blocks down the Alley and ducked in the back door that led up to their loft. He hadn't said anything and she wasn't going to make him, so when they entered the loft and he made a bee line for his bedroom she didn't follow. She sighed when he shut the door. Instead of following him she headed to the kitchen to do some of the dishes that had been waiting for a day or two. Her thoughts on George, she moved methodically around the surprisingly muggle-like kitchen until finally all were washed, dried, and put away. She wiped down the counter tops, keeping a sharp ear out for noises from his room but there were none. She wondered if he had gone to sleep or if he'd made the door Imperturbable. Finally running out of chores in the common area, she headed for her bedroom. She tried not to have her feelings hurt that he shut her out, reminding herself that everyone dealt with grief differently and George apparently preferred to be alone with it tonight. She got ready for bed, remembering to put on a full set of pajamas just in case and puttered around her room for a little while. She wasn't really very tired yet.

She meandered around her room and stopped in front of her book case. She browsed the titles, not really sure what she was in the mood for. Her finger paused at Jane Eyre, but she passed it by. It was so depressing up until the very end. Maybe she didn't want to devote the energy to an entire novel tonight; instead she went through her stack of magazines and pulled out the most recent copy of _Transfiguration Today_ that she'd neglected to read. She propped herself up with some pillows against the headboard and flipped through looking for an interesting article. Fifteen minutes later she gave it up as a bad job. She just couldn't focus. She got up and peered across the darkened living room… no light shone from around George's door. She sighed and decided to just go to sleep. He'd be alright.

She'd just settled under the covers and flicked her wand at the lamp when she heard his door open. She listened to his quiet footsteps crossing the living room and she felt no small measure of relief when he stepped through the door.

She pulled the blanket back, but he hesitated. "Getting in?" She asked when he didn't make a move. He didn't answer, but did cross the room to slide under the covers. He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair; she settled into the pillow and reached for his hand that lay on the mattress in front of her. She pulled it up and pressed her lips to a knuckle. He still didn't speak, but he did drop a kiss on her shoulder. It was strange, but this was only the second time in the two months since she'd been here that they'd gone to bed together. They had wound up in that way at least two nights a week for the last month, but this was a bit different… more intimate. He heaved a sigh and shifted to get comfortable. She turned her head back to try and look at him, hoping that he hadn't been crying all this time. He lifted his head to meet her eyes. She reached back to touch his face… it was warm but dry. On the spur of the moment she rolled back a little bit and pulled his face down to hers for a brief kiss, just a soft press of lips. She caressed his cheek once more and rolled back to her pillow. He settled back in and they spent the night uninterrupted by nightmares.

. . . . . . . . .

The rest of the week followed the typical pattern of paying bills and helping George streamline the administrative side of WWW. She was leaving to go to Gringott's and make a deposit on Friday when she ran into Ron on the stairs.

"Ron! Hi!" She gave him a hug. "Are you not working today?"

He returned the hug and grinned at her. "Yeah, I'm on my lunch break. Where you headed?"

She held up the bag of galleons, "To the bank but I can go later if you want, since you've got to go back to work soon…"

"Nah that's alright. I've spent most of it downstairs talking to George. I'll walk you there and then head back." She nodded and he led the way out of the shop and into the street.

"So how are you? How are things with Jenny?" She asked, she needed to make up for being such a bad friend for the last year.

"Eh. Turns out she just wanted to date a 'war hero'. Ginny almost smacked her after you two left mum's house that night." He said grimly and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"What? What on earth for?"

"Said she made a move on Harry when she thought no one was around." He said with an embarrassed laugh. She groaned, knowing that being shown up by his best friend was always hard on Ron.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" She patted his shoulder.

"It's alright… I actually met a girl at the Apothecary last week when I was getting some potions ingredients for work. She seems nice; we're going to dinner tonight." He laughed, "Hopefully this turns out better than the last one…"

"Ooo, what's her name?" She teased... trying to remember who'd helped her when she was there...

"Jaime."

"Well I hope it goes well tonight. You'll have to owl me tomorrow and let me know." He led her out of the pedestrian traffic to a bench that sat a little out of the way.

"Sit with me for a minute." He asked, she complied, certainly willing to take a few minute away from the shop. "You seem… a bit better." He said cautiously.

"Well, I finally went to a healer. He put me on a potion to help me… deal. I suppose talking with him helps too, but I've only had two appointments."

Ron grinned hugely at her. "George told me. I can't believe you're both going, it's brilliant." He reached for her hand and adopted a more serious face, "We've all been worried about both of you, you know."

"I'm surprised he told you, but yeah… I'm sorry I worried you. And I'm sorry for what a horrible friend I've been the last year."

He waved away her apology, "Don't worry about it. But that's not all he told me." His grin was back again, and she had the sneaking suspicion she was about to be teased. "He told me that you two might start seeing each other."

"Well he was very chatty this morning, wasn't he?" She asked, not really knowing what to say.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Yeah, he wanted to make sure I wasn't secretly in love with you or anything- which I'm not, for the record." He got serious again, "Really, Hermione. I want the two of you to be happy again. If you're happy together, that's even better."

She cleared her throat against a bit of an ache that surprised her, "Ron that's really sweet. I'm glad you all didn't give up on me. It's an uphill road you know, for him and me both."

"I know. I get that. I'm not going to tell anyone else that you've gotten some help or that you're together… mum'll be over the moon whenever it gets out though. I'll let you two tell people when or if you want to. It really isn't anyone's damn business."

She leaned forward and hugged him tightly. "We need to see each other more often. Now that I might have the energy to get out of the house some more."

"Yeah, we do." He let go and stood up. "Well, go get your banking done. They probably won't let us go in there together." He laughed, thinking fondly of their escape on a dragon.

. . . . . . . . .

She managed to get in and out of the bank without breaking a single rule, but the goblins still watched her every move. She spent the afternoon in the stock room, looking at last years' numbers preparing for the rush as kids stocked up in preparation to head back to school. She'd have to place some orders soon to be ready for it. She came around the end of an aisle to find George leaning there, having positioned himself so that she would run into him when she turned the corner.

"Oh!" She said, fumbling her pen and clipboard after she collided with his broad chest. "You did that on purpose!" She glared up at him, not the least bit upset because he was very close to sporting the grin that they had all missed. It wasn't at a hundred percent, but it was the brightest she'd seen it since Bill's wedding.

"Sure did." He didn't even bother to look abashed. "You know what I noticed today, sweets?" He asked, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She arched a brow at him, still pretending to be annoyed. She knew he didn't buy it. "I haven't seen you stare off into space a single time."

"Yeah… it's been a good day." She gave in and smiled. "So good in fact, that I'm leaving early to go to the market. I might even cook you dinner."

"Oh, well don't let me slow you down then…. Well, maybe for a moment." His grin faded into a more serious face as he tipped her chin up with his finger and bent down to kiss her. It only lasted for a moment, just a drawn out peck, but it gave her butterflies. "It's alright if you stare off into space thinking about _that_." He said cheekily and winked before he left her stunned in the back aisle of the stock room.

. . . . . . . . .

She came back to the flat weighed down by several bags and deposited them on the kitchen counter.

"I'm back!" She called to George who appeared to be in his room. "How does spaghetti sound?" He answered with something that sounded positive, but she couldn't make it out. She put the perishables away and set the tomatoes in the sink to give them a rinse, but as she turned on the faucet she was hit by a jet of icy cold water. She shrieked and tried to block the flow with her hands, but she was getting absolutely soaked. It was like a fire hose! It took her three tries to turn the water back off because she couldn't see through the spray. Finally, after much flailing and girlish squealing, she got it turned off. She stood there, mouth agape, staring at the sink, and dripping into what seemed to be about an inch of water in the floor. Now that the water was off she could see Spello-tape wrapped around the sprayer nozzle, holding the handle down, in the on position…. Aimed just so… just so that the person who turned on the sink would get quite the surprise…

"GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY!" She shouted and spun around to see him bent over, bracing himself on the wall with a hand clapped to his mouth to stifle his laughter. At the sight of her hair straggling in her face and her soaked clothes hanging off of her, he burst into full-fledged laughter. The sight of him truly laughing erased every bit of anger she may have had. George had just pranked her. The first prank, as far as she knew, since Fred died. He pranked her and she loved it, but it would be poor form to admit it. She advanced on him slowly and he took a step back, attempting to get his breath back from all the laughter. "You sir, have now taken over cooking duty for this evening." He was still chuckling, but he nodded. "I am going to take a shower, and I expect to see your arse in a dry kitchen, cooking, when I come back out." She said, trying and nearly failing to not laugh herself, her lips twitching traitorously at the corners. She felt her competitive streak give her a nudge… oh, she would win this. "Do I make myself clear?" He nodded, wiping a tear of laugher off his cheek. "Good." He paused when her attempt at a glare turned into a smirk. Really, he had started all this, with the kisses and _Option C_- which still made her squirm to think about… he brought it on himself. She watched his grin falter and then fall completely when she peeled her soaked shirt off and dropped it to the floor. She stood just long enough for him to get an eye full, enjoying the appreciation on his face and the fact that she had stunned him into silence, and then spun around towards her bedroom. About halfway there, when she was sure he wouldn't be able to see her front, she reached back, unclasped her bra, lifted it high with her right arm before releasing it to let it fall with a wet splat to the floor. She didn't hear a peep from him as she walked the final few feet to her room and shut the door behind her.

She grinned behind the closed door. _I win._ She congratulated herself all the way to the shower, leaving her remaining clothes in a sopping pile in the floor. It wasn't until she stepped under the hot spray did her cheeks flame and her smile falter. _Oh, Hermione, s_he thought to herself, _you just dug your own grave. _She had just upped the ante in a prank war with George Weasley. Not only that, but she had quadrupled the sexual tension between them by stripping half-naked in front of him. Oh she couldn't believe she did that… she'd just stripped off her top like it was nothing! Like it was nothing to have a man look at her that way… no man had _ever_ seen her naked before, but she hadn't even stopped to think about being bashful in front of George. She didn't know what that meant.

Dinner was a surprisingly quiet affair, with a few winks and smirks on his part thrown in for good measure. Hermione could tell he was already thinking of what to do with the accidental challenge she had issued, but he was on his best behavior through the meal. She took refuge in her room as soon as they finished eating, as if having a door closed between them would lessen her embarrassment of the fact that she'd stripped half her clothing off on a whim…


	5. Chapter 5

The next day was just blah. She'd woken up that morning after George had already left, she'd dragged herself out of bed, gotten ready, and was now staring blearily at her computer screen. She'd been down here for two hours already and had accomplished hardly anything. She dropped her forehead to the desk. It was going to be one of those days where all she wanted to do was sleep or sit and stare. She had a good week, so she supposed she was due for a bad day. She looked toward the stairs… her bed was less than fifty steps away.

The desire to sleep and inability to focus warred with the guilt of abandoning her work. It wasn't like she was being productive… she was just occupying space again. Screw it. She grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a note to George. She went quickly to her room, her bed seeming as welcoming to her as a cool oasis in the desert, peeled of her jeans and climbed in. Much better. She grabbed a pillow, hugged it to her chest and let out a relieved sigh. In only a matter of minutes her thoughts descended into the familiar haze of nothing as her eyes gazed fixedly at a random point on the wall. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

She was woken by George plopping unceremoniously on the bed next to her. She cracked an eye open and sent him a glare that would've sent a lesser man running.

"Had a bad morning I see." He commented quietly, patting her on the hip.

She thought about rolling over and ignoring him, but that felt a little too childish. Instead she shrugged. There… quality adult communication.

"How about having lunch with me?" She shrugged and made a face, she wasn't hungry. Well, maybe slightly, but she didn't want to get up.

He tilted his head and adopted an innocently sweet expression; she was instantly suspicious. "But I already bought us lunch… I was going to ask you to go 'round the corner to the park with me. We could eat on that picnic table by the swings…"

She glared at him, trying desperately to resist the urge to feel guilty.

"But if you'd rather not, that's alright. I can eat by myself… in my office instead of at the park in the sunshine…" He heaved a dramatic sigh. No, no no! She wasn't going to fall for the blatant attempt at a guilt trip. He leaned down until their faces were level and looked beseechingly in her eyes.

"Pleeease?" He asked quietly. Her glare sharpened but he didn't flinch. She could feel herself caving…

"I hate you." She finally grumped at him.

He sat up grinning in triumph. "No you don't! Up you get, I'm hungry." He tugged her up and she debated going completely limp just to make things difficult… but he'd win no matter what. She stood and reached for her abandoned jeans. She looked up and saw that he watched unashamedly from the doorway as she pulled them on. The smirk on his face pulled a reluctant smile to her lips. She'd never had a man look at her like that before… she found she quite liked it.

She unenthusiastically let him steer her down the sidewalk toward the small play park. They sat in the sun and watched a few small children run amok around the swings and the slide. She _supposed_ that it was alright out here. Intellectually she knew that she should be thankful that he wasn't just enabling her by leaving her to mope whenever she felt like it… but the part of her that still wanted to be in bed was having a very good pout right now. It took her a few minutes, but she finally realized that it would've been much easier for him to eat a quick bite in his office than to take the time to haul her out of bed and make sure she ate lunch. She grudgingly appreciated the effort and the sentiment so she worked on pulling herself out of her bad mood.

"How was your morning?" She finally asked, after they had been there twenty minutes.

He looked pleased that she asked. "Oh fine… nothing special really."

"I talked to your brother yesterday," She mentioned, opening her bag of crisps.

"Which one? I've got five." He jerked slightly in his seat. "Well, four."

That melted the rest of her frosty mood and she debated for a split second on whether or not to acknowledge his slip up… probably better not to say anything. "Ron. He walked me to the bank." He just nodded. "He said you two had quite the conversation yesterday."

He eyed her a bit nervously and she gave in to a smile. "He said you essentially asked his blessing to see me romantically."

He shifted in his seat. "And if I did?"

She couldn't stop the small smile the crept across her face, but she just shrugged and looked down at her crisps. They lapsed into silence again. What were they waiting on exactly? They obviously got on well, they were attracted to each other, they were both making active progress towards getting their shit together… they did have a long way to go, but they were working on it. Plus, she felt like they were good for each other on the emotional healing front, among others.

She looked up and watched him for a moment before she spoke. "Thank you, by the way. For not letting me sit up there and wallow all day." She hooked a foot around his ankle. He just took a bite of his sandwich and shifted to trap her foot between both of his like he had at the Burrow that night. Would they ever transition to having more verbal than nonverbal communication? Right now neither of them liked to talk much, but someday it might be different…

They finished their meal in companionable silence and he stood and offered his arm for the stroll back. She caught him looking down at her and raised an eyebrow in response.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?" He asked, pulling her to a stop.

"I have dinner with you every night." She said, butterflies suddenly filling her stomach.

"Will you go _out_ with me tonight?" He asked, his smile fading slightly as his expression grew a little serious.

Maybe he'd been thinking along the same lines as she had while they sat in the park: _what were they waiting for?_

"I'd love to."

They walked back to the shop, each with a happy little smile on their face and went their separate ways once they were back inside. She returned to her bookkeeping and he was busy on the shop floor. The afternoon flew by and she decided that she would head upstairs at six to get ready.

She stood in front of her wardrobe, in a towel, wet hair dripping down her back. What to wear on a first date with a man you already live with? She had no idea.

She met George in the living room at half passed seven and they walked down together while she wondered where he was taking her; there was really no way to know with him. He tucked her arm into his and Apparated them into an alley. He looked down a bit sheepishly at her.

"You know how Dad has a strange love for muggle things?" He asked with a grin.

"Yes…"

"Well. You'll see. Come on." He threw an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the alley and she was immediately blinded by bright lights.

"Funland? You like muggle arcades?" She asked, laughing. Of course he did.

"Yeah… and being Muggleborn, I figure you're one of the few people who would ever come play with me, so…. Shall we?"

It only took a few minutes and some solid efforts of distraction on George's part for her to get accustomed to the lights, noise, and people milling about. After the slightly awkward start, they spent three hours giggling like children as they bounced from game to game trying to best the other at everything. They took breaks only to refill drinks and eat a few slices of greasy pizza. She hadn't laughed so much since they were all at Hogwarts.

Eventually, when they ran out of coins, they decided to call it a night and Apparated to Diagon Alley to stroll through the quiet street back home.

"I bet you've never had a date like that, have you?" He teased.

She laughed, "I've never had a date period, outside of a school function."

He stopped and stared down at her, "Really?"

"Of course really, you've known me since I was eleven, did you see me date anyone?"

"Blimey… I suppose not." He started walking again; steering them towards their flat. "Damn, I'm sorry, love. I should've taken you somewhere nice."

"No! It was perfect. Really. I haven't laughed so much in years." She wrapped an arm around his waist as he opened the back door of the building for them. "It was lovely."

"Well good. I had a lot of fun, too." He assured her, as they entered the flat. "I'm hoping you want to go out with me again sometime soon." He walked her all the way to her bedroom door.

"I really do." She stared up at him, uncertain how to end a first date when you lived with the man and occasionally spent the night in his bed. He closed the distance between them and she looped her arms around his waist as he slid a hand into her hair. The butterflies in her stomach were going mad, which was silly… she'd been closer to him than this a dozen times.

"Brilliant. This would be really awkward if you were thinking about saying no."

Before she could worry anymore about what she was supposed to do he took matters in his own hands and swiftly bent down to kiss her. It was similar to that night a couple of weeks ago; slow and sweet and she was startled at how good something as simple as a kiss could feel. Although, maybe kisses weren't always simple. This one was definitely changing the tone of things. Her hands moved up to his shoulders and she stood on her tiptoes so he didn't have to bend so low. His arm around her waist tightened and nearly pulled her off her feet. Too soon it seemed, he had pulled away and wished her goodnight.

She got undressed somewhat dazedly and stumbled into bed. She'd had an amazing time. She had always cared for George, having been friends for so long, but the last few months he had become closer to her then anyone except Harry. There was something about letting someone in on your weakest and lowest moments and not being judged but welcomed in on theirs as well… it was a big deal. And now… now there had been this dynamic shift… so slow she wasn't even sure when it began, but she was fairly certain that she fancied him. Quite a bit. Enough that even though she'd had lunch with him this afternoon and just spent an amazingly fun evening with him and she missed him. She missed him even though he was just in the other room. She wished that he were here with her, either holding her until she fell asleep, or explaining more about this _Option C _that she couldn't get out of her head. Her eyes narrowed at a sudden thought; she added up all the information that had just run through her head and reached the only logical conclusion: she was well on her way to falling for George. She let that ruminate for a moment, thinking about the possibilities, and eventually decided that she was alright with that. George was an amazing person and he obviously cared about her. A slow grin crept over her face and she nearly laughed aloud as she realized that for the first time since Voldemort's return, and despite the emotional challenges she had yet to overcome, she was excited about the future.

. . . . . . . .

When the offensively bright sunlight woke her the next morning, she found herself lying on the chest of a sleeping redhead. She didn't even remember him coming to bed. Huh, either he was getting sneakier or this potion was making her sleep more deeply…

She wondered how much longer it would take before they gave up attempting to sleep separately, perhaps they should go on a few more dates first. She eased out of bed and used the loo, took her potion and brushed her teeth, noting the time was only half nine she climbed right back into bed with him. She accidentally woke him trying to get settled comfortably and he rolled over to face her. She couldn't help but grin at him, remembering her revelation last night at just how much she fancied him, and the fact that he was currently in her bed. He gave her a sleepy grin in return, reached under his pillow and grabbed his wand. He gave it a small wave and did something nonverbally…

"What'd you do?" She asked curiously.

"Mouth cleansing charm." He gestured vaguely toward his face, propping himself up with his elbow. "Morning breath is the number one killer of morning dalliances, everyone knows that." He smiled cheekily and pulled her closer so that she was on her back looking up at him. He smoothed some hair out of her face and gave her a quick good morning kiss. She attempted to ignore that he used the word 'dalliance' and how that made the butterflies return to her stomach.

"Did I wake up when you came in last night? I don't remember it at all." She asked, hoping to cover her nerves.

"No, not really. You mumbled a bit but that's all."

"I'm sorry; you didn't have a nightmare, did you?" She asked, instantly sorry that she hadn't woken up and he might've needed her.

"No, I just got lonely." He confessed. She made a small sound of sympathy, pulled his arm around her and snuggled in against his chest. It occurred to her that he probably did have issues with being alone. His entire life, before he was even born, Fred had been literally at his side. They had shared everything, including a bedroom until they moved into this flat and even then they were only separated by a wall. Being alone had been an entirely new experience for him, one he didn't seem to care for.

"Well stay with me then and let's go back to sleep. There's no reason to get up yet." He made some sound of agreement and pulled the blankets up to their chins.

When she woke up sometime later, she was alone and the sheets were cool to the touch. She wallowed in the blankets for a few minutes, feeling quite comfortable, before the curiosity of where George went got the better of her.

She wandered into the living room and glanced around… no George. She couldn't hear any sounds of movement either. Had he decided to go to sleep in his own room? She hoped not, that would probably hurt her feelings a bit. Had he left the flat completely? It was possible; she didn't see a note on the table or anything though. About to give up and go back to her room she saw a door open that had stayed closed and unmentioned during the three months that she'd lived there: the door to Fred's room. She stood there stunned for a moment, feeling several emotions fly through her. Shock that he'd gone in, happiness that he'd finally done it, and worry that he was suffering for it.

She quietly walked over and peered through the door. George was sitting in the floor, leaning back against Fred's bed, staring blankly at a sheaf of papers in his hands. She leaned on the door frame for a moment, not knowing if she should go to him or leave him be. Eventually he looked up and she saw that he was pale and his jaw was set, but it looked as if the tears had dried some time ago. How long had he sat here by himself?

She smiled sadly at him, still unsure what to do for him. He finally patted the floor next to him in invitation; she went to sit next to him.

He cleared his throat and gestured to the papers. "This is uh… this is what we were working while we were stuck in hiding at Muriel's. We didn't get it finished before…" He trailed off and cleared his throat again. She felt tears gather in her eyes, listening to him struggle against his. "Before the battle,"' he finished.

She leaned her head on his shoulder in her habitual gesture; she had no idea how to comfort him. She had a brief internal battle about staying quiet or trying to draw him into conversation about it. Finally she settled on asking, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He sort of shrugged, but after a pause he said "Another sweet." He didn't seem inclined to share anymore. She wanted to ask what the sweet did to whoever was unfortunate enough to eat it, but if he didn't want to elaborate that was fine.

"Ah." She didn't know what to say, but felt she had to at least acknowledge that he had spoken.

They sat in silence, as they often did, and eventually she got the impression that he'd rather be on his own so after giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze, she got up and quietly left him. She spent the afternoon doing the laundry, somehow she had started doing his as well… she wasn't sure how that happened. Sneaky bugger. She peeked in on him every couple of hours and saw that he did get up off the floor and sat on the bed. He went through a drawer in the nightstand and a couple of other things. She heard a few sniffles and a couple soft chuckles but left him to do such a personal task on his own. She had turned the wireless on so that the music would take the place of the heavy silence and she hummed along quietly while she folded the laundry. He finally emerged as she was putting dinner on the table. He sent her an apologetic smile but they didn't discuss it.

He slept in his own room that night. Again she didn't know if it was good or bad. She was honestly in a hurry for his counseling session on Tuesday; hopefully Healer Jones would help him sort out the multitude of emotions that going in Fred's room must've brought on.

Monday turned out to be a sit and stare day for both of them. She wandered into his room midafternoon to find him lying on his back with faraway eyes. She stood by his bed and waited for a reaction… did he want company or to be left alone? After a minute he turned to look at her and after what appeared to be a short internal debate he lifted the blanket in invitation. Together they lay side by side, hands held between them and passed the rest of the day, alternating between staring holes into the ceiling and sleeping.

Tuesday dawned a little brighter for her than Monday had been and she was grateful for it, she was already feeling anxious about telling Healer Jones that they'd both had a bad time of it yesterday. George seemed to move through the morning on autopilot and it worried her to see him struggle.

Just before lunch she had just finished writing a batch of checks when she realized that these were the last of the debt that George had fallen into. She hurriedly double checked and confirmed that yes, after these went out; they were back to normal operating expenses and should finally be earning revenue!

She sent them off with Parsnip and went to find George. She strolled through the store, happy to see that there were several customers browsing. She stopped and spoke to a few whom she recognized but still couldn't find George… maybe he'd gone to lunch on his own?

She walked behind the counter to Verity who had just finished with a customer. "Hey, everything going well today?"

"Sure enough, had a couple who bought about thirty galleons' worth of party favors for their ten year old's birthday party."

"Wow, that's some party."

"That's what I said," the witch laughed, but then looked around for anyone in the proximity. Not seeing anyone, she leaned in close to Hermione. "You're lookin' for George, yeah?" Hermione nodded, instantly worried about the secrecy. "He's in the back." Verity tipped her head towards the wall. "In the lab." A slow smile came across the petite witch's features.

"In the lab?" Hermione echoed. "Like, the _lab_ lab?" Verity nodded, her smile becoming a grin. Hermione's mouth dropped open. "How long has he been in there?"

"Not sure, I went back to use the loo about an hour ago and saw the light under the door. He hasn't been in there since…." Verity's smile faded.

"I know." Hermione said quietly, "Well… I hope it's going well in there." Was all she could think to say. He went through Fred's room and into their lab in the space of two days? Hopefully it wouldn't be too much for him…

"You and me both. It's been hard on everyone here without Fred. Watching George over the last year has nearly broken my heart." Verity shook her head sadly.

"Mine, too." Hermione agreed.

"Although… he has been looking a bit more cheerful the last month or so." She said with a hint of a teasing tone in her voice. Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say to that and so left the saucy witch with a parting friendly glare.

Hoping to distract herself so that she wouldn't just pace outside the door waiting for George to come out of the lab, she decided to look into Verity's record to see when the last time she'd gotten a pay raise was. She certainly deserved it for sticking it out through the last couple of years. She'd come right back to work as soon as George had re-opened the store after the battle. She imagined that it had been fairly difficult dealing with George during those early months.

She kept one eye on the clock while she went through the documents for Verity and a couple other employees that she noticed were doing really good jobs. Finally at ten after seven, when it was really time to leave for the healers, George emerged.

His hair was mussed as though he'd run his hands through it numerous times but he seemed to be in good spirits.

"Ready to go?" He asked, tossing what looked like a leather apron onto the back of his desk chair.

"Erm… yes?" She stood up, curiosity eating at her, but she decided to stick with their usual pattern of she didn't ask and he'd tell if he felt like it.

Their sessions seemed to fly by. She picked up where she'd left of last week and shed a few tears talking about Harry going through the Triwizard Tournament and how scared she had been. Stopping there, they got into her recent nightmares and the flashback when the fireworks went off outside their flat. He suggested that since most of her flashbacks involved the Battle of Hogwarts that she think about going and visiting the school. He thought that replacing the visions of the school under siege with new ones of it rebuilt and safe may help. She also confessed that she and George had had a bad day yesterday and he made a note saying that if they didn't taper off in the coming weeks they'd adjust her potion.

To her surprise, when George emerged with Healer Jones he was laughing at something. There were tears on his face, but it had appeared that the two men ended it on a good note. He smiled down at her, wiped at the tears and threw his arm around her shoulders.

Not much was said on the way back to the flat aside from the simple "Alright?" exchanged between them. He let her in the backdoor but did not follow her to the stairs.

"I'm going to stay down here for a bit." He said apologetically.

"Oh… in the lab?" He nodded. She hesitated with one foot on the stairs. "What if something blows up on you in there?"

He chuckled, "I'll set a charm to go off if something goes awry, how's that?"

"I suppose. Will you leave the Imperturbable Charm off the door so I can at least knock? I know not to come in without knocking; goodness knows what you're doing in there…"

"Yeah, that's no problem since you're the only one here." He smiled reassuringly.

"Should… should I wait up?"

"Probably not. I'm not good at keeping up with the time in there." He came forward now, tipped her chin up and kissed her softly but quickly. "I'll be up later."

"Alright…" She wanted to tell him to be careful, but knew he'd just roll his eyes.

It was several hours later and her eyes were drooping over the novel she was reading when she heard him come up the stairs. She tossed her book down and met him in the living room.

He thrust something at her "Eat this." He said, his eyes wide and excited.

"What does it do?"

"You'll see."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Will any fluids, natural or unnatural, come spewing out of any orifice?"

"Nope." He set a stack of papers on the table and turned to grin at her.

"Will I turn into any sort of creature humanoid or otherwise?"

"Nope."

"Will it hurt?" She asked, her anxiety increasing along with the size of his grin.

"Shouldn't."

She looked for another question, "How long with the effects last?"

"Til you're done eating it."

She looked down at the lolly with complete distrust. "Will it deform, remove, or make invisible any part of my body?"

"Nope. Just eat it!" He urged.

This was a terrible idea. She should make him eat it and watch what happened. She knew that he must've already eaten several of them before he'd test them on another person, but she couldn't believe she was about to do this. "Horrible idea…" she muttered as she popped the lolly into her mouth. It tasted pleasantly of apple, which surprised her.

She quickly examined her body; everything looked normal. "What's it supposed to do?" But no sooner did she ask than she felt a curious sensation. "Oh! What's it doing?" She pressed a hand to her stomach as the strange sensation moved outwards through her limbs. "George!" She felt like she was losing her balance.

"What do you feel? Does it hurt?" He quickly moved to the table and grabbed a pen to take notes.

"It… I… holy mother of Merlin! Am I floating?" She asked and really needed no answer because her feet were no longer in contact with the floor. She eyes were big as galleons as she realized that she was floating gently in the air without feeling any support. It was like… "Anti-gravity?" She asked in a hushed voice. He looked as though he was about to explode with glee. She raised her hand and felt her hair gently floating out from her head, just floating… no movement as if with wind or anything.

"How do you feel?" He asked hurriedly.

"…Fine?"

"Dizzy?"

She shook her head. "How long with this last again?"

"Until you finish the lolly." He read down his list for his next question. "Are you nauseated?"

"No." She answered dazedly as she reached out to touch the ceiling. She pushed gently and began a slow descent towards the floor. She giggled, "This is wicked."

He gave a funny little bounce in his seat and read through a list of questions ranging from "What is your full name and place of birth?" apparently to make sure her memory had not been addled, to "Can you feel this?" followed by a soft wind coming out of his wand.

She did feel the wind and it pushed her slowly towards the opposite wall of the living room. Now he sat down his papers and walked towards her. He held a hand up to her; she was now floating upside down, and pulled her in for an upside down kiss. She giggled again.

"I can't believe you actually ate that." He said after he released her.

"I trust you." She answered simply as she bobbed around the room. "It's nearly gone now… how rapidly am I going to regain my gravity? Or whatever… what a bizarre question."

"It should be fairly painless… that was our problem before, a pretty rapid fall, but I think I fixed it today." All the same, he conjured a mattress beneath her and they waited. Sure enough, about two minutes after the last of the candy was gone she floated down to the floor and landed softly on the mattress.

"Oh how weird." She said as her body flattened out on the mattress. "It's like when you stay in the bath as the water drains… I feel so heavy now!" She sat up and looked at him with wide eyes. "George… that was brilliant!" She hopped up and threw her arms around him and placed a smacking kiss on his lips.

He kissed her back just as enthusiastically then pulled back to grin at her. "If that's what I get when I have a success, I'm going to be spending a lot more time in that lab… I have a couple more questions though." He ran through a few post-experiment questions about how she was feeling or if she felt weak or dizzy or anything.

"When will you start producing them to sell?" She asked, unable to mask her excitement: WWW had not released a new product in a year and a half when they used to churn them out weekly.

"I need to test it on a few more people and if that goes well… a month?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Even though it was the middle of the night, they were both exhilarated by George's success and had spent a good deal of time discussing its potential… what they could call it, how they would market it, what to charge for it, those sorts of things.

"I'm so excited that you've got something new." She said earnestly after a pause in conversation.

"Me too." He grinned.

She sighed happily, "Well, if you expect me to work tomorrow… I'm going to bed."

They both stood and he looked at her a little awkwardly. "What?" She asked him.

He laughed a little at himself. "Just being a bit stupid. I don't want to wait til the middle of the night to sleep next to you." He said honestly.

She smiled shyly. "You don't have to. Let me brush my teeth and I'll meet you in there, how's that?"

"Brilliant." He grinned again and her heart gave a funny thump at the sight. Since she was eleven this was the expression she'd most often seen on his face, until a year ago. Even during the war he could find humor anywhere, but in the past year it had been virtually non-existent. Only in the past couple of weeks had it become a little more frequent.

She smiled back a little nervously, feeling slightly unsettled, and headed to her room. She brushed her teeth quickly, trying to figure out what was different about tonight… they had gone to bed together twice before, but it had never been premeditated. It felt different this time. Something fluttered in her chest as she recalled what he'd said … _I don't want to wait til the middle of the night to sleep next to you…_

She put on another one of his shirts that she'd stolen and a pair of sleep shorts and headed to his room. It was definitely a bit bigger than her room; would this be _their_ room someday? She knew she was getting ahead of herself, but even a blind man could see that they were headed in that direction. She suddenly wished she'd worn something more attractive to sleep in. He came out of his loo clad in nothing but boxer shorts, which she'd seen him in numerous times but this time she felt her cheeks flame. He was really quite attractive.

She got into bed before him, more to make sure she wasn't blatantly staring at him than anything else. He doused the lamp, got in behind her, and immediately reached for her.

"So… we've been on one date, yeah?" He asked, pulling her with him as he rolled on to his back so that she lay on his chest looking down at him.

"I suppose you could count lunch in the park, why?" She laughed a little, propping her chin on her hand.

"Two then. What about ice cream before that?" He questioned without answering hers.

"I suppose. Three dates then. _Why_?" She repeated, poking his chest.

"Well, the whole sleeping together but not _sleeping together_ before we started dating has me confused as to what's appropriate and when." He grinned and tugged a lock of hair.

"Oh." She wasn't sure what to say to that. She hadn't dated anyone before unless you counted Viktor… she had no idea how this was supposed to work in a conventional fashion, much less in their situation.

"I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable." He said quietly, softly playing with the lock of hair instead of tugging at it now.

"You haven't so far." She whispered, a bit taken aback by the serious turn he had taken.

"Good." His hand moved through her hair to cup the back of her neck and he drew her down to him. The kiss was gentle and sweet like his other kisses had been, but it quickly grew more intense. She had come into the room in a different state of mind than the other times they'd shared a bed with each other and suddenly the intensity of her emotions caught up with her a bit. She changed the angle of the kiss and pressed herself closer. He responded instantly and returned the kiss with fervor; one of his hands sliding down her back and around to her hip. After a moment he surprised her by rolling them over so that he hovered over her, his weight on his elbows and knees.

"You'll tell me if you want me to slow down?" He asked, sounding a bit breathless above her. She could see his face in the light coming in the window, his eyes were hooded and dark, his lips parted.

"I'll tell you." She whispered and ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders. He hesitated another moment and if she _had_ been nervous his consideration would've swept it away. Since he was still hovering over her, conflicted, she leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss as passionate as the one a moment ago.

He groaned and lowered himself so that his weight was firmly on top of her. As many hours as she had spent pressed up against him while sleeping, this did not compare. She sucked in a surprised breath and ran her hands up his back as his lips trailed a scorching path down her throat. Logical thought seemed to leave her and she found herself wrapping her legs around his waist. The feel of him _there_ was shocking… she bit back a moan when he moved against her through their clothing. He turned his attention back to her lips as his hand crept beneath the hem of her shirt and moved up her rib cage. His hand stopped before it got to her breasts and instead trailed back down, teasing fingertips against heated skin. How far did she want to take this? She had only ever known arousal in the abstract, but experiencing it first-hand… she was not ready to stop the sensation. She cared for him, wanted him, trusted him. She knew that he felt something very similar and that this was not a one off for either of them. So the next time that his hand moved up her torso she arched her back to release the tension on her shirt and allowed him more freedom of movement. His hand automatically went to the hem and tugged. He broke the kiss and looked at her as if asking permission. She didn't answer but assisted him in pulling the shirt up and over her head.

"I'm mad for you, you know." He whispered against her throat as his hands roamed up her back and pressed her up into his chest, the skin on skin contact made her toes curl.

"I _do_ know," She whispered with a quiet laugh. "I am for you, as well."

His hands roamed farther and ignited feelings that left her shocked and amazed. A few breathless minutes later he groaned softly and sat back on his heels, staring down at her. His fingers trailed along the waistband of her shorts, teasing the sensitive skin there. Her breath hitched at his unasked question and she felt no need to debate her answer. She lifted her hips off of the mattress and he slid her shorts and knickers slowly down her legs. His hands trailed up her calves, the back of her knee, taking his time and exploring the newly bared skin. He teased and tested and drove her wild until finally reaching the point of frustration she began tugging on his waistband.

He stilled and looked at her with a shocked expression. "Are you sure?" He breathed quietly, a crooked smile crossing his face when she nodded shyly. He quickly shed his shorts and picked up where they left off.

He was gentle and loving and though she shed a tear at the initial discomfort, he patiently ensured that she found her pleasure. She shed another tear when it was over and he held her close, completely overwhelmed with emotion. She'd never felt so loved as she did right then, even though those words hadn't been spoken there was undeniably love between them. It may not have evolved into the ride-off-into-the-sunset-love yet, but it was certainly a couple notches above the love of friendship.

She lay pondering these things, tracing a path with her fingertips down his chest and stomach. He held her tight to his side with one arm.

She giggled at a sudden thought and he looked at her curiously. "I still remember my name…" She said teasingly.

He chuckled, "Next time."

She woke up a few short hours later to the sound of his alarm. "Unnngh! Turn it off," was her very undignified response. She pulled the covers up over her head and instantly dropped off to sleep again. The next time she awoke, the sun was at a completely different angle and George was gently carding his fingers through her hair.

She blinked at him sleepily, "What time is it?"

"Nearly lunch time." He answered. She furrowed her brow in confusion; he was shirtless and his hair was a mess so he obviously hadn't been downstairs to work. He smiled at her confusion but provided an answer before she could ask. "I sent a note to Verity that I was taking the morning off. She can handle it… mornings are usually pretty slow."

"Oh. So we have to get up now?" She pouted a little as she snuggled closer to him.

He gave a soft chuckle and rubbed a hand down her hip. "'Fraid so, love. I told her I'd be down there about ten minutes from now. I was thinking that you could go get us some lunch."

She defiantly settled deeper into the blankets. "Give me two more minutes."

George gave her three more minutes before he came back, fully dressed and ready to go downstairs. She rolled over to face him, finally willing to accept the fact that she had to get out of bed. He dragged her out of bed and sent her off to the loo with a pat on the bum and a wink.

He was waiting patiently in his room when she came out, feeling much more awake. She felt herself blush when she saw him watching her… the memory of last night's events playing in her mind.

"I've got to go down; it'll be time for Verity's lunch now. Give us a kiss good morning?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

She went to him quickly, relieved that there would be no morning after awkwardness. He drew her into his arms and gave her a kiss that might leave her head in the clouds for the rest of the day.

The rest of the week passed in a happy, albeit sleepy, haze for both of them. Verity was cajoled by George into testing the lolly and had no ill effects. George made a devious plan and spent a couple hours every evening making more so that he could test them on his unsuspecting family on Sunday at the Burrow. They both knew that they'd be so happy that he'd made something new they'd forgive him for the trickery.

. . . . . . . . . .

They were greeted by the standard hugs and kisses on the cheek when they arrived. The only thing out of the ordinary was Ron's smirk and occasional knowing glance. It was bizarre to have Ron be the watchful one she thought, not unkindly.

They hadn't seen the family in nearly a month and none but Ron knew that they'd sought treatment for their respective issues. No one knew that George had taken the nearly impossible first step and gone into Fred's room and had been working in the lab again. No one knew that Hermione had gone on a potion to help deal with her PTSD symptoms. No one knew that they were falling madly in love and spent each night wrapped tightly around each other. Needless to say, the two were slightly nervous about what the reactions would be when people started noticing that something was different.

The packed rooms and the noise there sent Hermione back into her shell immediately and she found herself on the stairs again. It wasn't as bad as it had been in the past; she wasn't itching to leave and she knew that in a few minutes, once she got used to it, she'd be fine. She watched George trying to describe Pinball to Mr. Weasley, who was thoroughly engrossed. Her gaze wandered around the room and she smiled when it fell on Ron and Jaime who were whispering to each other on the sofa, not paying a bit of attention to anyone else in the room at the moment. Harry, Ginny, and Bill were animatedly discussing yesterday's Quidditch match and Fleur was holding a babbling Victiore on her hip and helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. Audrey was patiently listening to Percy detail some piece of legislation he was trying to push through.

Maybe she'd just take five minutes in the back garden. Just five minutes and she'd be ready to come back in and possibly even participate in a conversation. She felt George's eyes on her as she quietly made her way through the kitchen and out the back door. She walked slowly across the garden, breathing deeply and attempting to relax. She could do this. These people were like family, there was no threat. She didn't feel afraid when she was packed in with the boisterous Weasleys… just a bit claustrophobic.

She stopped and looked up to watch the clouds move across the sky, working on breathing deeply. She heard the backdoor open and close and a moment later George gently turned her around to face him. She leaned into his embrace, pressed her cheek to his chest, and looped her arms around his waist.

"Alright, love?" He asked, running a soothing hand down her back.

"Yeah. I just got a little anxious. It's not as bad as it used to be; I just needed a couple minutes."

"Take all you want." They stood in silence for a few minutes, the sound of his heartbeat calming her quickly. She tipped her head back to look up at him… he was so tall. He smiled down at her.

"I think I can go back in now." She started to pull away but he lifted his hands to cup both her cheeks and bent down to give her a soft kiss. They both froze when they heard what sounded like muffled gasps coming from behind him.

"Is that what I think it is?" He whispered against her lips.

She opened her eyes and kept them on him, though she could make out several forms through the kitchen windows in her peripheral vision. "Mhmm." She said, a laugh building in her throat. Subtle wasn't really in the Weasley dictionary.

"Shall we give them something to see then?" He asked, a trace of his wicked humor surfacing. She grinned and he took that as a yes. He swiftly bent his knees to grab her around the bum and lifted her so that her legs went around his waist as he crashed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they both smiled into the kiss as the gasps through the curtains turned to shocked laughter and then a whoop, probably from Ron or Harry…maybe both.

They laughed and nearly broke apart when they heard Ginny's voice "That's five galleons! I told you so!" They didn't make out Harry's grumbled response. Then came sounds of protest and sharp commands from Molly, who was apparently ushering everyone away from the window.

Neither seemed inclined to break the kiss and so they spent several minutes locked in their embrace. When they finally pulled away he set her down and opened his mouth to say something when a shriek rent the afternoon air. They froze and listened.

"OH MERLIN!" Someone yelled, followed by some cursing and shuffling. They stared wide-eyed at each other, but George began grinning. Hermione had a feeling she knew what was going on inside the house…

Sure enough, a second later they heard "_GEORGE_!"

George let out an excited chuckle. "Let's go see who all ate one, shall we?" He grabbed her hand and they hurried to the house.

"How'd you get them to eat any? I can't believe they trusted a sweet from you!"

"I just left a bowl of them on the kitchen table and didn't say anything."

It turned out that Ginny, Harry, Ron, and poor new guest Jaime had all spotted the lollies on the table and one of them had passed around a handful. They quickly turned from angry to enthusiastic as they realized that nothing else was going to happen apart from the floating. Well, Jaime wasn't quite as enthusiastic as the rest, never having been exposed to anything like this before, but she was a good sport. Mr. Weasley also joined in the fun and Hermione was reminded of the scene in Mary Poppins… she started humming "I Love to Laugh" under her breath for her own amusement.

She and George actually stayed until other people started to go home. They had sat side by side during dinner and engaged in more conversation than in the last three months combined. Which wasn't really saying much, but they were getting here. They lingered at the table after finishing, as was the household custom, George casually put an arm around Hermione and pulled her into his side while he talked broom models with Harry. It would seem an insignificant gesture to anyone who didn't know that this same man had spent the last year shutting everyone out, but every eye at the table widened just a bit at how tightly he kept a hold on her, how his fingers absently traced patterns on her arm or fiddled with a lock of hair. A few minutes later Mrs. Weasley had passed behind them and paused to drop a kiss on the top of both of their heads.

They lay in bed that night, Hermione's head resting on his chest listening to his heart slow back to its normal rate. He was trailing a fingertip up and down her spine, raising goose bumps on her overstimulated skin.

Eventually she moved to the pillow so that she could see him properly. "I had fun tonight." She said hesitantly.

"Me too." He said, with a serious expression on his face.

"Why so serious?" She asked, wondering what was wrong.

"Just thinking…"

"What about?"

He turned over on his side to look at her more comfortably. "I wouldn't mind if you slept in my bed on a permanent basis."

She smiled. "I wouldn't mind either."

He threaded his fingers through hers, "It doesn't seem to soon?" She thought for a moment… no, she didn't think she wanted to sleep in her empty bed anymore. She shook her head, wanting nothing more than to move into _their_ room with him.

He grinned and pulled her in for a scorching kiss.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

THREE YEARS LATER….

Hermione and George walked hand in hand towards the Burrow for dinner one Thursday evening. They were walking slowly and both looked a little dazed. Before they came in sight of the house, George pulled her off the lane and they meandered back to the rock by the pond where they'd sat that Sunday so long ago.

"I just…. I can't go in yet." He said, sitting cross-legged across from her and running his hands through his hair. "I need a few minutes to get my head wrapped around this."

"Me too." She said faintly. "I can't believe it." She scooted forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder, his arms coming up to wrap around her.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes before he groaned. "Ugh, I'm going to be paid back for everything I've ever done."

"But what about me?" She whined good-naturedly, leaning back to look at him. "I never broke the rules!"

"Pardon?" He asked with a disbelieving smirk. "Would you like me to list some of your adventures?"

"That's quite unnecessary, I assure you. But… oh Merlin, I should've known. With you and Fred… Molly's brothers… When the healer said… I thought she was having me on!"

"Yeah. I guess we should've seen it coming." He said as he grinned down at her slightly protruding stomach and caressed it with a loving hand.

"If these two are anything like you and Fred, I'm going to be gray by the time I'm thirty."

He chuckled but couldn't argue. They sat quietly together for a few more minutes before he pulled her to her feet. "Come on; let's go tell them all its twins. Let mum fuss over you."

She let him help her stand and looked up at him with a happy smile. "You'll love me even when your children turn my hair gray?"

He pulled her into a tight embrace. "_My_ children? Got into this all by myself, did I?"

She giggled. "I'm teasing, you know I've been over the moon since we found out I was expecting. I just got surprised by the news that there are two in there."

"I know. And yes, I love you now and I'll probably love you more after they've turned you gray." He smiled sweetly and kissed her briefly before turning them back toward the house. "Oh, mum's going to be positively revolting." He sighed.

"Yeah she will. She's been asking about grandchildren since we got married. They'll all be thrilled." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I love you, too, by the way."

* * *

A/N: Not gonna lie, I'm a little sad that it's finished. I feel like I could write their entire lives. I hope y'all loved this story half as much as I do, I really enjoyed writing it. I've always loved the twins but haven't ever been fond of pairing one of them with Hermione, but this just occurred to me and I couldn't resist writing it. Let me know what you think! Now I'll get back to Threat: Unknown, it hasn't had an update in over a month now I think!


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